


The Lotus Eater

by monstersinthecosmos



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bloodplay, Bondage, Chains, Gratuitous Smut, I APOLOGIZE, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Life Choices, Porn Watching, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sex Toys, Suppositories, Switching, That was an Accident, Vampire Sex, crackfic, drugs & alcohol, i mean there's sort of a plot, stoned!armand, stoned!daniel, whoops this is long as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 21:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersinthecosmos/pseuds/monstersinthecosmos
Summary: he had been careless with this boy.





	The Lotus Eater

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this in teeny pieces for like three months and I'm glad it's finally over and I'm gonna post it before I have time to nitpick it and change my mind. IDK WHY IT'S SO LONG LMFAO WHOOPS. I felt like I was on a runaway porn train during this process, my bad. 
> 
> But anyway I wanted to give a huge huge huge shoutout to [YureiYume](http://archiveofourown.org/users/YureiYume/pseuds/YureiYume) for pushing me to work on it, because we were doing writing sprints together almost every day for the month of May and it was like tremendously productive for me. :D also WANNA THANK THE VC DISCORD CHAT FOR TALKING GOOFY HEADCANONS WITH ME THANKS GUYS ILU. 
> 
>  
> 
> FINALLY just quick nod to [The Lotus Eater by Opeth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhohQNdSt7g) for big inspo, even though I wrote most of this fic listening to retrowave haha. :D

****Relationships are a series of lines that get crossed.

There was soft noise coming in through the open windows. Noise from the walkways down below, voices and laughter floating like music. But no voices in this room. Even Daniel’s mind was quiet for once, completely serene and still. Not empty, just still.

Armand laid back against the pillows and looked into the boy’s face. It was different now than it used to be. Some of the changes had happened so gradually that he’d scarcely noticed, even as he perceived every nuance with a type of hyper-focus reserved for the undead. He could sense the lines, the pallor, the way the bones jutted out through the skin more and more, year after year. But it took quiet moments like these to really appreciate it, really see how far it had gone.

Ten years had passed since that first night. And he’d been filthy and frightened, yes, but otherwise so healthy and young. Eyes clear, skin supple. Now it was the opposite. At some point, a level of trust had grown here, something Armand could feel like warmth. But beneath it, the boy had gone so ragged.

Too many lines crossed.

The voice from the record player scratched through the room. “It’s so tranquil, it’s so calm like you, but now I hear a noise, is there any way out of this nightmare?”

Daniel leaned forward to lay a kiss on Armand’s forehead. Then his cheekbone.  Then he was nuzzling against Armand’s face, and Armand could smell the smoke in his hair, feel the vapor of expelled alcohol in the boy’s breath. Neither were unpleasant, not really. Familiar now. Comforting.

“Are you sure?” Daniel asked. He was doing his best to mask his tone of voice, didn’t want to sound too desperate. This was something he wanted, nearly painfully.

Ten years and there were still firsts. Not much time for Armand, but… Daniel’s eyes glowed, purple and warm in the light, excitable. There was some distant, quiet human feeling trying to break through. Pride, maybe. Joy? Love? Ten years that perhaps Armand had taken for granted, but that were etched into Daniel’s face.

This was not really a trivial amount of time, was it?

The record player crooned. “I’ve lived on the dark side of the moon _and I’ve been to the heart of the sun._ ”

“Are you, Daniel?”

And this, this too. A line.

Line after line after line, and if he thought back he could maybe connect them. In some ways it had gone by so fast, but there were the beginnings of wrinkles in Daniel’s face. So soft and barely even there yet, but creeping in. Time wasn’t waiting like it was for Armand. Maybe he’d been careless.

He was sure that neither of them would’ve predicted this, not in the beginning. There was no way that Armand could’ve known he’d reach this point when he first found Daniel in that house, and Daniel certainly wouldn’t have imagined anything of the sort when he approached Louis for an interview. Time could feel abstract and chaotic to Armand, and he could have trouble making sense of his age, but this particular chapter with Daniel seemed linear, and though he was surprised by the result, he could surely trace it back.

There were certain markers that always came to mind, turning points. The night he realized Daniel had stopped running from him had been one. The first time they’d exchanged blood, the first time they kissed, each incident an escalation.

And now, as he felt Daniel’s warm hands tracing down the lines of his body, his mind went back and back, following the path to the beginning.

The obvious starting point would be the night they met--Armand could still see the startled look on Daniel’s face, stripes of shadows from the windows falling across him, sickly yellow light from the streetlamps catching in the specks of dust. Louis’s voice from the cassette player filling the room, striking Armand with something horrible and cold, but that burned like jealousy. The familiar, passive cadence of the words surrounded them both. _I pondered the great risk of our questions, the risk of any question that is truthfully asked; for the answer must carry an incalculable price, a tragic danger. Who knew that better than I, who had presided over the death of my own body, seeing all I called human wither and die only to form an unbreakable chain which held me fast to this world yet made me forever its exile, a specter with a beating heart?_

He’d heard Louis’s voice before even feeling Daniel’s presence, from way down by Sixth Street, sounding exactly the same save for the slight distortion of the tiny speakers. Eerie the way the voice had been saved like this, recorded to something tangible to survive time with them both. He would have been confused about all of it if Daniel’s thoughts hadn’t been so loud, so desperate. Frantic and tangled. As he hovered out on the walkway the story became clear, what had happened here. _Near them, near to their precious darkness, their lovely devouring gloom._ This boy was longing for their violent and sensuous world.

But, no. It wasn’t a simple matter of coming into each other’s lives that had started them down this path. That was too easy, too obvious, and Armand might have stopped it at any time if he’d wished to.

Well, any time until the lines were crossed.

Because suddenly The Boy had become His Daniel. Sleepy and petulant, always pretending to be angrier than he ever really was. Stumbling Scheherazade with a half-empty bottle of Buffalo Trace and a three-day beard, complaining that he can’t find his cigarettes.

He could map time by visualizing the sequences of Daniel’s face, the way his expressions had changed. And the feelings had changed, too. At first it was the pulses of fear that had rolled off of the boy, hanging heavy in the air. Eyes wide and glassy, mouth hanging open, heart pounding so loud Armand could barely hear anything else. Then, at last, it became softer, less shocked. A gradient of emotions that had turned finally to pleasure, and the warmth of gratitude when Armand would return. So many little smiles.

The need came, too. Eventually. It came on slowly, but Armand could feel it deepening with each passing month and each carnal trial. At first it came as a surprise; that Daniel had so painfully interwoven Armand with his own erotic desires, that he’d come to associate the feeling of orgasms with the feeling of the fangs puncturing the tender flesh of his throat. A surprise, sincerely. It left Armand reeling in quiet awe when he first began to pick up the fragments of thoughts, fantasies, seeing the clear images of himself in Daniel’s mind as he would bring himself over the edge. Flattering and curious.

Armand supposed he could remember feeling this way once.  It had been a long time since he’d given any thought to his mortal life; it had taken Daniel to uncover these memories, bit by bit, reminding Armand how it all had felt. For a long time it had seem too distant, too buried, maybe not even worth remembering at all. But each piece, once exposed, felt important. He, too, had learned arousal at the bite. He, too, had been programmed by it, whether it had been the intention or not.

Of course, with Daniel the dynamic had shifted. It was Armand’s turn to be the predator.

So the encounters had started slow, and Armand had taken Daniel’s lead, followed Daniel’s speed. Daniel would never admit it later; he liked to think that all of it was an elaborate manipulation of some kind. But it had started with Armand selecting the partners that Daniel had already wanted, then the toys that secretly excited him.

And lines had been crossed.

He could trace the path from their first embraces through to their first playmates, and of course to the way they’d grown not to need anyone else. Each encounter pushed them forward, into new territory from which there was no retreat. Touching Daniel the way he had felt like a bell that couldn’t be unrung. And he knew he could stop—there was no way to go back, but there was nothing forcing him ahead. Still, he continued. At some point it finally dawned on him that he didn’t _want_ to stop.

Daniel didn’t want him to stop, either. The longing was plain in his soul, Armand felt it in his bones when he’d leave, and see it in Daniel’s face when he was near.

And he remembered that one night, the night they’d first tried alone, and it was the night Armand had found the leather jacket, and the night they’d gone to the MoMA, and the night they’d found the sex shop.

Armand had been so overcome, so fascinated by the bold display, and Daniel had acted so mortified on the outside. But he was so sated and relaxed on the inside, and Armand could hear the way his pulse quickened when they looked through the various wares. The hitch in his breath when Armand had stood by the restraints, the tick in body heat when Armand had pointed to the row of plugs and asked for assistance.

Daniel feigned surprise so well when it came back up a week later. Armand had let it go, left the shopping bags in plain sight in Daniel’s room to see if he’d admit his curiosity. But no. Armand could tell they hadn’t been touched at all, not even moved, that Daniel hadn’t even peeked inside during the day when Armand wasn’t around. It took a week before Daniel caved, and Armand might not have noticed if he hadn’t felt the guilt rolling off the boy. He didn’t say anything right away, didn’t launch into taunting him, though the temptation was there. Instead he went to lean against the edge of the dresser, right next to the bags. He caught Daniel’s nervous glance towards them, and heard the way his heart skipped, and saw the images flicker through Daniel’s memory. Daniel had been standing in the empty room, sunlight yellow and diffuse through the heavy curtains, testing the flogger against the palm of his hand.

“You enjoyed your gifts, then?” Armand asked.

And that eyeroll was so Classic Daniel that Armand couldn’t help the smile. Not just the expression, the set line of his pink mouth, but the way he always resisted at first. Armand could hear the struggle and the frantic thoughts. _He knows, he knows, fuck, don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it._ Armand’s smile deepened as he let out a soft laugh. He straightened and pushed himself away from the dresser, crossing the space between them. Daniel was sitting in the windowsill, one hand dangling a lit cigarette out over the fire escape.

“I wanted you to enjoy them, Daniel,” Armand leaned in close to stare into the boy’s eyes. It was dim enough in the room that they seemed a cold gray, not showing the violet at all until he turned his head and caught the pink light pollution. Armand pressed his fingertips to Daniel’s jaw, feeling the rough scratch of stubble, then turned him back. “No. Look at me, Daniel.”

The effect was subtle but instant. The way Daniel’s face softened, the way his lips parted when their eyes met. How his pupils widened. He froze there in Armand’s gaze.

“Your cigarette, Daniel,” he said, and Daniel wasn’t even alarmed by it, didn’t even look before flicking the long cylinder of ash and bringing it back to his lips for another drag. He didn’t look away. Probably couldn’t. His eyes stayed locked where they were even as his head turned to blow out the smoke.

Staring into him like this made Armand feel like a channel had opened up. Whether he couldn’t or simply didn’t make the effort to shield himself, Armand wasn’t completely sure, but getting this close could open Daniel like a book. The boy’s emotions pulled at him, drew him in. He pressed his hand to Daniel’s chest to feel his heartbeat.

“You enjoyed your gifts, then?” he asked again.

Daniel’s eyelids fluttered but didn’t completely close. The heart skipped beneath Armand’s palm. “I don’t know, I didn’t use them.”

“But you looked at them?”

He nodded, eyes still unmoving. His bottom lip trembled just for a moment.

There was a bond here, not quite the same as the one that could be accessed through the blood, not as vivid, but strong in its own right. Tangible and weighted. It allowed him to see the fuller picture of Daniel here, to understand just a bit more.

“Which one did you like the best, Daniel?”

Armand could feel the hesitation, the resistance again. And it was never displeasure, not really. Just Daniel being cynical and stubborn, but he would come around. He always did. He probed into Daniel’s mind as he asked the question, knowing he would pick up on the answer before Daniel could say it out loud. But it seemed he was telling the truth; Armand could see it again, his memory of that afternoon when the sun was still safely above, how he’d finally surrendered to the curiosity. The sound of the crinkling plastic bag had put him on edge, uncomfortably filled the silence of the hotel room, and he’d panicked there for a moment that Armand could hear it from his crypt, wherever it was.

His fingertips had trailed over the plug, and the glass piece, and hard plastic vibrator. He’d picked up the flogger from the other bag, and tested it against his palm, and the chains in the bottom of the bag jingled when he put it back.  The sound of the chains, too, had assaulted the silence in the room.

Beneath Armand’s hand, Daniel’s heart began to race.

“The chains, then?” he asked softly.

Daniel’s breath came out in a gush and he was finally able to tear his eyes away. The cigarette was almost finished and he dug in his pocket for the half-crushed pack, using the glowing butt to light the next one. His hands were shaking.

The fresh nicotine seemed to smooth out the buzzing anticipation. Armand could hear it working in him and feel it in the air. He slid his hand up to Daniel’s shoulder, then down his arm, nails ghosting over the warm skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Daniel narrowed his eyes as he pulled at the cigarette. Armand squeezed his hand and attempted a sincere smile before backing away and returning to the bags.

The chains were coiled in the bottom of the bag and affixed to a black leather collar. Armand couldn’t help the chuckle as he picked it up and held it in his hands.

“What’s funny?”

Armand raised an eyebrow. “These don’t seem like effective restraints.”

Daniel’s laugh in response became tangled around a cough, and he blew smoke out the window. “You’re the biggest creep, I swear.”

“Why does that make me a _creep_?”

“They’re not supposed to be _effective_ , Armand. They’re for fun,” he raised his own eyebrow. “Most people aren’t creeps like you.”

Beneath all of it there was a brief flash of their first days together, accompanied by a kick in Daniel’s heart rate. But it was gone as quickly as it arrived. Pushed away. Daniel’s face went stubborn and steely against all of it.

Armand watched and waited patiently as Daniel finished his cigarette and stubbed it out against the bricks outside the window, then flicked it down into the street. The silence was heavy between them for a brief moment until Armand held out the collar. The chains dripped between his fingers.

“Put it on, Daniel.”

The sarcastic responses were hovering at the forefront of Daniel’s mind, poised on the tip of his tongue, but none came out. At first he just stared, thinking. Faintest hint of doubt, but the excitement stretched beneath it. _Yes, yes._

He came forward. When he was close enough he had to look down to meet Armand’s eyes, irises slightly red in the dull orange lamplight. A moment of hesitation before he reached for the collar, but Armand snatched his hands away.

“Wait. Not yet, Daniel,” his head tilted to the side. “Take your shirt off first.”

“Armand-“

“Do you want this?”

His shoulders caved and he cast his eyes around the room as if there would be a witness to back him up. But nothing. Armand tried to feel for the answer. It was so buried under confusion, apprehension. It was nerves and excitement and irritation but… he wasn’t saying no.

“Take your shirt off,” he said once more. He took a step forward when Daniel didn’t react, leaning into his personal space, breath cool on Daniel’s neck when he continued. “Daniel, I’m not going to tell you again.”

The hair stood up all over Daniel’s body and his nipples came to points as he finally obeyed. The shirt fluttered to the floor and Armand extended the collar. Daniel clenched his teeth as he tried to hide that his hands were trembling. It sent a lustre of sweat across his forehead.

The chains swayed and brushed cold against his stomach as he lifted it up to his throat. Armand continued to stare into him, not reacting as he slid the raw underside of the leather around the sides of his neck, fumbling for a moment with he buckle at the back. He felt for the punch holes with his fingertips, but Armand stopped him as he went to fit the metal into place.

“No,” Armand said. He’d reached out and taken one of the chains in his hand, but hadn’t applied any type of pressure yet. Just held it there. “One more.”

Daniel’s lips parted, almost protesting, but his hands were working on their own, and he slid the strap a little tighter. It was enough that he could feel it digging into his Adam’s apple. When he swallowed there was the sensation that he was being choked, but it passed. He could still breathe. _They’re for fun_ , he’d told Armand a moment ago. _Sure. For fun._

There were two hoops to either side, each with its own chain hooked on. The other ends each had a leather wrist cuff. Armand twirled one around his finger, tugging on it just a little, just enough for Daniel to feel, and he ran his hand all the way to the bottom until he held the cuff in his hand.

“These chains are too long,” Armand said. Daniel’s eyebrows knit together in concern, apprehension. He could see the smile on Armand’s face and it was making something curl in him. Not the happy smile that could transform him back into a sweet seventeen-year-old, but something colder. “They won’t be effective if we just cuff you now.” He brought his fist to his mouth, making a show that he was thinking about it, but hadn’t let go of the chain. It wavered between them. “Why don’t you turn around.”

A mortal might not have noticed the way Daniel’s throat moved as he swallowed, how each line quivered beneath the collar, how his Adam’s apple had just barely brushed up against it. These were small details, maybe imperceptible to other humans, but ones that were beginning to ignite Armand’s thirst. Another moment went by with Daniel frozen in place, staring, eyes going wide and dark, but with a slight quirk of an eyebrow and a more assertive tug at the chain, the boy finally moved.

“Good,” Armand’s free hand reached to touch Daniel’s shoulder, fingertips trailing across his shoulder blades as he turned. Lightly, the vaguest hint of nails making the boy shudder. Then down his other arm until he’d curled his fingers around Daniel’s wrist. He went up on his toes to whisper directly next to Daniel’s ear. “It will work better like this, Daniel.”

Daniel was still holding tension in his frame, but his limbs were malleable as Armand began to arrange him. Right hand buckled into place over the dent of his left hip, left hand over his right. He’d stopped trembling but his palms were damp with sweat. Armand pressed his hand flat over Daniel’s warm skin, rubbing over the bump of his spine.

“Are they effective?” he asked. He grabbed the juncture of Daniel’s wrists, crossed over each other at the small of his back, and gave them a shake to make sure everything was in place.

Everything where it needed to be.

“Tell me if they’re effective,” he said. Daniel opened his mouth and Armand knew he was going to ask how. He answered before the words could come out, pulling at Daniel’s shoulder to spin him back around so that they were facing again. “Try to touch me, Daniel.”

“You know I can’t.”

Armand smirked and took a step backward. “Try, Daniel.”

The way he arched his back as he moved his arms caused a brief but vivid outline of his shoulder socket to rise up under his skin. The chains stretched and pressed down against the sides of his ribs. Then he straightened, face dull and unamused, and he shrugged. It made a rattling sound.

“No, Daniel,” Armand said. “I want you to really try.”

The thoughts didn’t come in words now, Armand realized. It was either that the boy was feeling something he couldn’t articulate, even to himself, or that it was such a storm of mixed emotions that he didn’t have time to separate them from one another. His breath hitched and the blush on his face spread down his neck and onto his chest. The feeling of the metal was bringing him back to those first nights and raising the memory of how that space felt, the damp stone, the smell of the rank water. It was panic and humiliation in him now, dread, but…

_The Blood, the Blood…_

“Soon, Daniel,” Armand assured him. Daniel’s head hung down, chin against his breast plate, the collar digging into the hard cartilage in his throat. Armand could hear how it made his swallowing heavier, louder. Two last chains were hanging from the loop on the front of the collar, ones that Armand hadn’t affixed where they belonged yet, and they twisted and and swung against Daniel’s body.

He heard the sound of Daniel’s heart beating faster, sensed the subtle difference in his scent as the adrenaline piqued in his sides. His muscles strained, all flexing biceps and quivering obliques. There was a little swivel of his hips, and a breathless whine of frustration, and the weight shifted from one foot to the other. Shaky gasp through clenched teeth before finally going lax.

“Good,” Armand said, softly. So gently he nearly sounded disinterested.  

Daniel’s head raised to look again, stray bangs falling over one eye. And, _ah_ , there it was. The corner of his mouth twitching to repress the smile. This was Armand’s favorite part, second only to the climax itself. It was the dawning of excitement, anticipation, pushing Daniel into that moment where he knew he couldn’t resist anymore. It wasn’t until Daniel lost control that he would ever truly relax.

Cool white hands finally addressing the final loop on the collar, the one right on the front with the last two chains. Thinner, these two, shorter, with gleaming clamps on the ends. Armand knew that Daniel was aware of them, that he had touched them during the day, and squeezed them shut between his fingers. As Armand reached and squeezed them for himself he could hear the way it churned Daniel’s insides, and saw the flush of pink rise into the boy’s chest. Then a quiet groan, almost imperceptible, as Armand gave the chains a quick yank, so that Daniel stumbled forward, unable to balance himself without free use of his arms.

“Daniel,” he murmured, and leaned in close. Pressed his lips to the corner of Daniel’s jaw, the soft space right below his ear. The pulse was fluttering there, up against his mouth, almost where he could taste it. The desire felt palpable but wordless, punctuated by the thick heartbeat, flowing out of him like heat. Some instinct must have told him to move, to touch, and the chains rattled when he couldn’t. It made Armand chuckle a little bit, the sound muffled against the warm skin. Sweat was gathering now, just a sheen, and Armand could see the way the hairs were raising on the back of his neck. And Daniel was trying to focus, but…

He put his hands against Daniel’s hips, pushing gently, patiently as the clumsy steps backward shuffled against the carpet. He could feel the spike of startled energy when they hit the bed, when the backs of Daniel’s knees crashed into the mattress and knocked him down. And… he seemed alarmed, he’d gasped for air and winced against the way his arms had folded beneath him, at the pain that had radiated out from his crushed wrists, but…

This was not real fear, not anymore. Armand stood at the edge of the bed and tilted his head to the side. Daniel was squirming to regain any semblance of control, propping himself up on his elbows, chest heaving. His abs were clenching; it left little hollow spaces between the ridge of his hipbone and the waistband of his jeans. Then, of course, there was the slight bulge beneath his zipper. His heart pounding so loud that Armand was amazed the neighbors couldn’t hear it. But…

No. Daniel wanted this. His thoughts were still a mess, incoherent, but words were forming now. _So fucking beautiful_ and _so powerful. Dangerous_ and _fuck_ and _please, please, please._ It felt like praise breathing against Armand’s body, warming him. _Oh my god, oh my god…_

The words made Armand stiffen. Not from the feeling in the room, not from tension. But because it seemed like a role he could play. This was what Daniel wanted. Armand squared his shoulders and stood up straight, looming at the foot of the bed.

Fair enough.

What Daniel wanted, Daniel would have.

He stared down for a moment, feeling it in the air there. Listening for more commands and basking in the heated and incomprehensible babble spilling silently from Daniel’s head. It was filling the room, palpable and tingling. He could see the bones struggling beneath the skin, arms unconsciously thrashing against the binds again. Pulling too hard made the chains dig into his ribs and left marks. And he knew better, didn’t he. They were _effective._ But it wasn’t an instinct he couldn’t reign in.

Finally, Armand came forward, kneeling at the edge of the mattress and hovering there, pinning Daniel down with his gaze and nothing more. He could see the strength deflate, saw the darkening in Daniel’s eyes, watched all rigidity leave his frame. A small wince as he leaned back into the bed, arms pinching uncomfortably, but withdrawing from the cold stare nonetheless, recoiling the best he could. Such a beautiful blending of arousal and fear now, flowing out and around and enveloping him.

He leaned in, hands pressed against Daniel’s chest as he crawled forward and straddled his hips. He could feel the press of Daniel’s erection on the inside of his leg. It was reassuring. He pushed back to deliberately grind his weight against it, pleased by the whimper that came out. It was so obvious that he was trying to hold it in. To start breaking him down like this seemed like a triumph.

“Armand…” the word was a breath, a scratch. Not really a question, nor a command. Not really much of anything. And he could see all the muscles flexing and becoming hard beneath the skin as he grabbed for the last two chains.

“Daniel,” he responded. Voice flat and even so that Daniel shuddered and his face flushed.

He took one of Daniel’s nipples in his fingers, squeezing and rubbing until it hardened. Again the strained whimpers, trying so hard not to react. So stubborn always, so petulant.

“You’re a fool, Daniel,” he mumbled, and he brought the clamp down around the pink nub. Daniel’s back arched against it and the breath came out in a gush. Armand slid the tiny metal ring into place to tighten it. Daniel’s teeth clenched hard enough that the veins were rising off his temples.

It seemed tight enough, the skin going white between the rubber tips. The blood was rushing to Daniel’s face, his cheeks red as he let out a sharp cry. He threw his head back against the bed, shaking it _no_ as if he wanted Armand to stop, but…

_Fuck, yes, yes, please, Armand—_

He pushed it up a little further. Daniel’s hips came off the bed, crashing up beneath Armand, making evident his arousal. Harder now, reaching a place of desperation. Armand steadied himself, squeezing his thighs around Daniel’s body, exerting the smallest bit of strength to hold him down, to make him stay put. Daniel’s eyes were squeezed shut, forehead creased as he whimpered at the loss of friction. Still struggling, weak, for anything. But nothing.

“Stay,” Armand said, and went for the second clamp. He let the metal graze across Daniel’s chest first, then circled around his nipple with it. “Stop moving or I won’t do it.”

A hiss through clenched teeth and a half squirm. Armand held the clamp closed just with his fingers at first, watching Daniel’s face, seeing the color bloom.

_What are you going to do to me?_

Daniel was teetering there on the edge, riding that sweet spot between pleasure and pain, between fear and love. It would just take a little push…

“Fuck, Armand, fuck,” he cried out as Armand locked in the clamp and sat back, spine arching up so that his ribs showed for a moment. Armand slipped his hands beneath the chains, stretched across now and held in place, and pressed his palm flat against Daniel’s sternum. He leaned his weight down, feeling the heart there beneath his fingertips, feeling the quaver of shaking breaths. Daniel’s head was thrown back, eyes open but empty, staring at some secret place in the ceiling. He gasped as Armand pressed down; made it harder to breathe.

“This is what you wanted, Daniel,” he’d meant for it to be a question, but the words seemed to form on their own and floated over them both.

The fear was gone now. He could sense it in Daniel’s thoughts, in his very soul. The clamps were all he could feel, sharp pain that was filling every space in him, and Armand could feel the way it spread like heat, the way it lit every inch of his skin, seared every nerve and blended with the warmth that was coiling in his gut, his groin.

 _It feels like you_.

“Like me, Daniel?” Genuinely curious. He tilted his head to the side and ran a finger along one of the chains, tugging at it gently and watching the way the skin suffered beneath it. There was another pained gasp, and whatever words had been on his lips died in a blur. The thoughts weren’t even coherent, but Armand could see the images now.

His small frame in Daniel’s arms. Daniel moaning into his hair as he bites down. The quiet hiss, the way his hands bunch the fabric of Armand’s shirt as the teeth sink through. Feeling every bit, every millimeter as it punctures the skin, the blistering heat of his own blood spilling over. The black spots that dance in his vision and the dizziness that settles in, like sinking into a warm bath. _Armand, Armand_. The red, glowing pain that ignites every inch of him, plays right beneath the surface, that courses in lines so vivid that he can practically see them racing to his core, his cock, straight down to his toes.

Daniel was panting and trying to move his hips, desperate for contact, but Armand continued to hold him tight in place with his thighs. His eyes were going blank; Armand had seen this part before, the way his thoughts could empty out, the way his mind shut down when it was time. And _it feels like you_ . He flicked one of the clamps with his nails and reveled in the _sounds_ that came out.

“It feels like me?” he asked again. His hand hovered over the chain, a threat to touch it, maybe a promise. _Please_. “Like being bitten, Daniel? You like being bitten?”

The answer wasn’t a word. There wasn’t even an accompanying thought. Just the whimpering and the rattling of chains as he thrashed again. Was he trying to move or was it some reflexive spasm? Armand couldn’t be sure. He pressed a finger to his mouth as he pondered it.

“I don’t need it the way you need it,” he said softly. He eased the pressure off his legs, leaving Daniel room to wiggle, then began to slide back. “I don’t need blood that often anymore. I don’t have to bite you, you know.”

_No, Armand, please, please…_

He slid down Daniel’s legs, settling onto the shaking thighs now. “Please what, Daniel?”

Daniel exhaled hard but didn’t speak. Armand tugged at the chain and saw the explosion of red in Daniel’s thoughts, saw him picturing the bite again. The same sharp, overpowering quality to the pain, the way it could drive right through, drown everything. He found it interesting that humans were like this, that little spots could take over all their senses, could drown everything else out.

Well. Maybe not everything.

He put his palm over the swelling heat in Daniel’s jeans. It twitched from beneath the zipper and Armand wondered if that was painful, too. Daniel’s eyes were closed now and he was chewing his bottom lip. He felt for the shape of it through the thick fabric, fingers tracing the edges of the shaft, scratching his nails down, pressing the hard line of the seam into Daniel’s balls. Twitching again.

_Jesus Christ, fuck—_

Even through their psychic bond, Armand couldn’t quite _see_ the way these sensations mixed, and he couldn’t feel them in the air, either. Certainly there was some degree of pleasure hanging here, and the pain was obvious. But watching the way Daniel shook and moaned, he _remembered._ He slowed his motions to ponder, hand going still where it was, hearing the click of the chains on the collar as Daniel turned his head the side in frustration. _Don’t stop, don’t stop,_ he wanted to say. But didn’t. Stubbornness, still? Or…?

No. Armand smiled. Not stubbornness now. Simple obedience. Daniel knew not to bother with requests, just as Armand had known.

So Armand popping the button on Daniel’s jeans and easing the zipper down was a reward, in a sense. He raised an eyebrow at the mess beginning to stain the front of Daniel’s boxers; just a patch for now, only a little, but wet and sticky nonetheless. He ran his fingers along the outline of Daniel’s cock again, this time so much closer, able to feel it better, able to distinguish the bump of the head and press down into it. Daniel’s hips flexed again, raising himself up into Armand’s hand.

_Shit, shit, oh my god—_

“Language, Daniel,” Armand scolded. He reached under and coaxed Daniel to rise up again so that he could slide the clothes out of the way, pulling the jeans and underwear down in one motion and leaving them midway down his thighs. Daniel’s cock bobbed against his stomach, red and thick and smearing a glossy trail of precum. The chains rattled again when Armand finally touched his bare skin, Daniel’s body writhing, head thrown to the side, arms struggling uselessly. Armand wasn’t using his whole fist just yet; he wanted to make this part last, this was the fun part. Instead he rubbed up and down on the underside with his fingertips. He traced the line of a single vein with his index finger, pushing it down into the skin and watching it reappear when he let go, the blood so deep and rich that it looked purple from here.

_Stop fucking teasing me._

_“_ What was that, Daniel?” he stilled his motions, curling his fist around the straining erection loosely, not applying any pressure for the moment. He leaned forward to push Daniel’s hair back with his other hand, bangs damp and beginning to stick to his forehead. _Fuck, fuck, don’t_ —

Daniel’s eyes opened and met Armand’s. A moment of complete stillness, no sound in the room anymore except for the things coming in through the window, the constant stream of car horns and almost soothing white noise of traffic. Above all of it just the sound of Daniel’s heart. Armand knew he could hear it in a way regular mortals wouldn’t, but it was beating hard enough that Daniel must have been able to hear it, too. It must have been the only thing he could hear, filling his head and thrumming through his whole body. Armand bet he could feel it in his red, clamped nipples and the heavy aching dick.

Poor boy.

“You know,” he said, and tightened his grip on the shaft. “I respect that you’re behaving, Daniel. I do.”

_Jesus fuck, fuck—_

“I can hear every thought in your dirty little mind,” he gave an experimental stroke, squeezing hard up at the top. “I know what you need, Daniel. I respect that you aren’t asking me, though.”

He leaned back and settled his weight down, sitting on Daniel’s thighs. His posture was loose, the picture of relaxation now. Nonchalant and calm. His thumb came up and ran in a circle around the swollen cockhead, pressing down against the slit. A strained noise came out of Daniel’s throat.

_Goddamnit stop teasing. Please stop teasing._

“Teasing, Daniel?” Armand pumped up and down a few more times. “You think I’m teasing you?”

Daniel’s forehead creased with stress, eyes going dark and silently begging. He pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose.

“The interesting thing, Daniel,” Armand said, and he hunched over for a moment to press his lips to the tip. A soft kiss and a quick probing with his tongue. His breath came out over it when he spoke again, “is that you haven’t actually asked me to stop.”

Armand pursed his lips, and he sensed that Daniel expected to feel the mouth again, but instead he allowed a gleaming string of saliva to drip down. It landed against the bead of precum that was already gathered there, and Daniel’s eyes lowered to watch as Armand continued to stroke him. The movements were slick and easy now, and _fuck is it bloody?_ he could see the red tinge staining Armand’s pale hand.

He sat back up and leaned against Daniel’s legs again, sitting up straight as he continued to move against Daniel’s stiff length.

“I think you like it, Daniel,” he said. With his free hand he traced the links of one of the chains. The one attached to Daniel’s right nipple. He swore he could hear Daniel’s heart stop in anticipation for a brief moment. Splotches had risen all over Daniel’s chest, blushing up his neck and beneath the layer of blonde stubble. The pain must be everywhere now; Armand couldn’t read it from him explicitly but he was sensing the way everything was going a little fuzzy around the edges, the way it did when Daniel was drunk. It warmed Armand to witness. He squeezed his hand and gave a few twists with his wrist, flourishing the motion so that Daniel gasped.

It was deep, the memory. It was far away and buried. But seeing Daniel like this always peeled the layers back. He remembered that feeling, the way the pain could be igniting every inch of his skin, and the way it could be soothed by these carnal indulgences. The way the pleasure could blend the pain into a golden, beautiful heat. It was a switch that could be flipped, to reassign the sensation to something exquisite and warm, from the biting, burning red into a tender, comforting purple. It would have every part of him trembling and crying for the release.

He supposed he’d never thought of it as a switch before. It wasn’t a reference he would’ve known then. These were Daniel’s words, Daniel’s times.  

But it wasn’t enough, was it? Armand tugged at the chain and Daniel’s back arched beneath it. Strangled moans were stuck in his throat, voice kicking up an octave. Armand loved that sound, when he would whimper like that. Normally he’d hear it right next to his ear, reverberating there when he drank.

“Armand,” Daniel whined.

The sensations must’ve been clashing together at this point, Armand figured. By now they’d be trilling through Daniel’s whole body, each contrasting the other, creating a feedback loop that would go on and on until he could reach the summit. Really, until Armand brought him there.

 _Bite me bite me please…_ and in his mind an image flashing, a fantasy, the pain all over his body translated to the puncture of teeth, the collar digging into his neck the firm press of Armand’s fingers.

“Was there something you wanted to ask me, Daniel?”

He opened his mouth, then his eyes, breathing hard for a moment before shutting them both again. _Don’t, don’t don’t. If you ask he won’t do it._

“I’m gonna come,” he said instead, voice trembling around the words. His abs clenched and hips lifted off the bed in tiny, strained thrusts.

“Are you sure there wasn’t something else?”

 _Fuck fuck fuck_ and he shook his head violently enough that had the chains tugging on the nipple clamps without Armand’s aid.

It was endearing, really. The obedience disguised as stubbornness and the desperate way his entire body trembled.

So Armand sliding down, laying a kiss to the soft skin inside Daniel’s thigh, and sinking in his teeth was also a reward. In a sense. He could still reach to pull the chains, and did, and knew was stringing Daniel tight, pulling him in different directions. The thoughts inside went fuzzy again and incoherent, then wordless, and then he was empty as his dick contracted under Armand’s hand and he erupted all over his own stomach. The bite had been small and quick, just enough for a little push, a little taste. He healed it as he stroked through the last pulses, then kissed a soft line up to the mess. Daniel was shaking still, but slower now, small aftershocks riding on hitched breaths. He hummed, sleepy and sated as Armand licked the cum from his skin, tongue flat and cool and patient. He felt hot; all the blood was up near the surface. Armand liked how the warmth felt against his face and rubbed his cheek into it.

There were a few minutes where he just wanted to bask in this glow, tasting Daniel in his mouth and needing to savor it, because it was never enough. But as Daniel’s breathing slowed back down to normal the guilt settled in and he crawled up to release him. The pleasure was gone, only pain on his face as Armand loosened the clamps and pulled them off. Daniel grit his teeth as the blood rushed back in; this part hurt even worse. Armand cupped his hands over both nipples, cold skin a welcome relief. He ran his palms in slow, soft circles until he felt the tension leaving Daniel’s body.

“Can you sit up?” he whispered. Daniel blinked at him a few times, slowly, his lids heavy but pupils blown wide. Finally he nodded, and Armand pulled him up by his biceps so that he could reach behind and unhook his wrists. Daniel brought his hands around into his lap and massaged his forearms as Armand finally undid the collar around his neck, then tossed the entire set to the side. It jingled as it dangled of the edge of the bed and then fell down to the floor.

He pushed the damp hair back over Daniel’s head and kissed his temple. “Would you like tea?”

“Oh-kay.” His voice was smaller than usual. Spent and soft and slurring a little. Armand rubbed his back before disappearing into the suite’s kitchenette. He watched through the doorway while he waited for the water to boil, watched how Daniel peeled off the rest of his clothes and dragged himself back over to the window, where he’d left his cigarettes. He sat on the sill and smoked in silence.

Armand held the steaming cup to his face when it was ready, inhaling the scent and reveling in the heat against his hands. He hung back in the shadows and waited for Daniel to flick the finished butt out the window before he finally came forward.

“You’re cold,” he said as he approached. Daniel shrugged as he took the mug. The gooseflesh covered his arms. Armand scanned for thoughts as he watched Daniel drink, but he seemed quieted. Sated. With his hands still hot from holding the tea, he reached up and around to massage the tense shoulders.

And these were the moments, Armand knew. These were ones that changed something. Daniel’s tea-warmed mouth suckling so lovingly, so reverently, at the gash in Armand’s throat shortly after. The little _thank you’_ s, and _love you_ ’s floating out of his mind as he drifted to sleep. He could see Daniel’s face in the dark, against the backs of his eyelids, as he waited for the sun to rise, locked up tight in his coffin and waiting impatiently for the oblivion of dawn to erase the images.

It was strange that objects had brought them closer, these implements. It had deepened the trust somehow, and Armand could feel it more and more.

In the present, Daniel’s weight was settled between Armand’s legs. He was taller, overall larger despite how lean he was, but his weight was nothing. Part of it was that Armand could always feel the frailty in every piece of him, that the human density meant nothing at all anyway, but he could feel how skinny Daniel was getting. He could see the ribs poking through the sides where they hadn’t before, and could feel every bone under the skin. As Daniel leaned in to kiss him, as he felt the tongue come through, still shy and tentative after all this time, his fingertips felt for the jagged peaks of vertebrae.

 _Want you so bad_ , he was thinking.

“You can have me.”

Still firsts after all this time, and Armand wondered if he should’ve known. Could this progression have been seen?

The record player crackled from the corner. “Some say I’m an advocate of Lucifer, some say I’m a child of God.”

“What’s with you and all the porn shit?” Daniel had asked one night. Armand was shuffling through a stack of tapes he’d bought at the adult shop on the way over. He’d left Daniel out of it this time, just showed up with them.

“I’m curious,” he mumbled, and his eyes flashed over the back of one of the boxes. He frowned in thought and looked over to meet Daniel’s face. Set and stubborn, petulant again, but there was amusement hiding beneath. “What kind do you like, Daniel?”

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be unaffected even as the blush crept up, pink on his cheeks. “Can we get food? I’m starving.”

Armand had stored all the video covers in his memory, the women with their painted red mouths, the teased up hair, the gaudy titles stamped on top. He held a mug of coffee from across the table in the diner, watching carefully as Daniel ate. He waited until Daniel was sipping his drink to send over the first image, and laughed while Daniel choked and sputtered. He shot Armand a lethal glare as he wiped the beer off his chin and the front of his shirt.

“What the fuck, Armand.”

Armand was still smiling. “Just curious.”

Daniel was picking at his food, eating tiny bird bites and eyeing Armand with suspicion as they went on. When Armand baited him with the next, Daniel dropped his fork.

“It’s really creepy how you do that.”

The third one he tried was the reaction he was waiting for. Not the sputtering and outrage, but the redness creeping over the tops of his ears, and the way his throat flexed as he swallowed. And that slight, subtle tick he could feel in the body heat. Subtle even for a vampire, but he was beginning to know Daniel so intimately in these situations now. Daniel pushed his plate to the side and folded his hands on the table, taking a deep breath before attempting to speak.

“Armand. What.”

“I’d like us to watch pornography.”

Armand was sure the entire diner could _hear_ Daniel’s eyes rolling. He closed his eyes, _I can’t even deal with this fucking guy_ , and pressed his fingertips to his forehead. Without looking, he reached into his jacket pocket for his cigarettes, only opening his eyes again when he was ready to light one. A few minutes went by in silence, Daniel suspicious and narrowing his eyes at Armand on every inhale. He ashed onto the side of his plate.

“You are such a dweeb.”

“You’ll like it, though, Daniel,” Armand said, and his smile was all mockery and mischief. “I already know you’ll like it.”

But mocking or not, Armand was excited about this. He rushed them home when Daniel was finished eating, conceding a quick stop at the liquor store on the way, and set the tape up himself as Daniel sat at the head of the bed. He even poured Daniel a drink before joining him.

It wasn’t a lie that Armand was curious about these films—he was, surely—but he had to admit to himself that this was an experiment on Daniel more than anything. He sensed that Daniel had figured it out, and though he still hadn’t taken the initiative to learn how to guard his thoughts, Armand could tell by his tension and the set of his mouth that he was feeling self-conscious and studied. The movie started and the notes of garbled, warped music on the first few inches of tape poured through the speakers. He watched Daniel’s face flush, and the blonde lashes came down thick to cover his eyes as he stared down at the ice in his glass. Daniel took a long drink and Armand was glad he had that, glad they’d stopped for it. It would help him relax.

The women in the video had big breasts and bigger hair, and their polished nails were a little too long and their moaning a little too fake. At least, Armand thought so. Even under his apprehension and shame, Daniel didn’t seem to mind that much. Maybe for humans it didn’t matter. He’d started to shift uncomfortably and downed the rest of his drink as the scenes progressed.

“Would you like another drink?” Armand asked over the high pitched, breathy cries from the TV. Daniel’s eyes were already a bit glassy but he nodded his head, and Armand left him there for a moment to pour a new one. The second drink was over by the end of the first act, the women pleasuring each other atop an overstuffed couch in a room with wood paneled walls. Daniel was vaguely aroused, not overly excited. But the next scene, as he sipped at the third drink, was when he began to get really interested.

Armand glanced from Daniel to the television. He didn’t get the same satisfaction from watching a dull recording of the act—he preferred watching Daniel when he could really watch, in the room, and hear the thoughts and the heartbeats and smell the sweat. And—

 _Oh fuck,_ Daniel was thinking.

He turned back to watch the profile of Daniel’s face. The room lights were dimmed so that the pale splash of blue from the screen was highlighting his jawline and gleaming in his eyes. He pressed his drink to his lips, not sipping, almost hiding there. The shaky breath he let out fogged up the glass.

During the women’s scene, Armand had sensed an overall disconnect. Daniel had been aroused just from the sight, just from watching. It was simple, really. No extraneous fantasies, no self-insertions. Just content to watch.

And now…

His brain, sluggish and drunk as it was becoming, was conjuring flashes of fantasy now. Armand kept his eyes on Daniel’s face, not needing to see what was happening in the movie because he could see it in Daniel’s thoughts. The women teasing the man who had shown up, running their long fingernails up and down his sides, tying him to the bed. And the one…

How interesting.

She was wearing a harness that looped around her groin, cutting diagonal lines across her backside. The front looked inconspicuous enough, like normal panties, except...

And Daniel’s mind was off.

_Goddamnit, why didn’t I think of this? Fucking brilliant._

Protruding from the front of the harness was a smooth plastic cock, shining in the studio light. Daniel’s free hand palmed over his erection through his pants at the sight of it and the thoughts that were blooming in its wake. Flashes in his mind again as the woman settled between the man’s legs and teased at his entrance with the head of her fake dick. _We could… we could…_ Both women were giggling and the man moaned as he was finally split open around it.

“Why don’t you touch yourself, Daniel?” Armand suggested, and he took the glass from Daniel’s hand to place it on the side table. Daniel turned his head for a kiss as he unzipped himself, and then continued to watch the screen as he brought himself to climax. Armand rubbed the top of his thigh, and grazed his face with the backs of his knuckles, and whispered encouragement until it was over.

When dawn came, Daniel was still a little drunk, so soft and sweet and open, less inhibited and stubborn than usual. He knew Armand had to leave but wasn’t letting him go.

“Are you really going to make me ask?” he mumbled against Armand’s shoulder. Armand smirked and kissed him on the forehead.

“Ask what, Daniel?”

He grunted and snuggled in tighter.

_I want to try that._

“Hmm,” Armand mused. He pet Daniel’s hair. “We’ll have to find some women who want to do that to you.”

“No,” Daniel lifted his head to look into Armand’s face.

Armand raised an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean.” _Don’t make me ask._

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Armand said. He began to peel Daniel’s arms away from his body so that he could get up, but Daniel’s fingers scrambled to bunch into Armand’s clothes. Armand chuckled and pushed away, gently. “Daniel, I have to leave.”

The boy’s face was going red as Armand slipped out of the bed and stood up, smoothing his shirt down where Daniel had rumpled it. He was chewing his lip and his eyes had gone big, somehow looking innocent. And, with that face, how _could_ Armand make him ask? For a face like that, Armand felt like he’d do almost anything.

He wasn’t sure how hard he’d push Daniel, but he’d stopped at another adult store the next evening before going to meet him, just to be prepared. The man at the register wanted to see Armand’s ID to make sure he was old enough before engaging in conversation. He explained how to affix the implement to the harness, and told Armand how he should “start with something smaller” and tell his “girlfriend” to be “careful” the first few times. But no, no, the size is fine, don’t worry, we’re experienced, it isn’t a problem, thank you, no thank you we don’t need condoms, yes I’m sure.

Daniel politely didn’t mention the shopping bag right away when Armand finally arrived. He sat at the table in the kitchenette, drinking coffee as his eyes skimmed over the newspaper. He seemed tired; Armand wondered if he’d gotten enough sleep. One of his hands hovered by the corner of the page, like he was getting ready to turn it, but Armand could tell he wasn’t actually reading. His mind was too clouded, he couldn’t focus on the words.

And the funny thing, Armand realized, as he stood there watching, was that this was something _he_ wanted. Enough waiting to the side while someone else took Daniel apart, enough channeling his influence through conduits. And wasn’t Daniel always wishing for him, anyway, and wasn’t Armand always watching his visions, studying them? Hanging on them, perhaps, more than he was willing to admit?

“Did you want to…” Daniel was stiffly and obviously avoiding looking at the shopping bag, “…do anything tonight?”

He put his hands on Daniel’s shoulders and began to rub them in gentle circles. “No.”

“No movies? No opera tickets? Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Armand repeated. He leaned in and kissed the back of Daniel’s neck. The hair stood up beneath his lips.

The chair made an abrasive noise as it skid back, as Daniel pushed away from the table. Armand wasn’t sure where Daniel thought he was going, and didn’t give him time to act on it before taking advantage of the free space and sliding into his lap. He ran his hands through Daniel’s hair as he leaned in to kiss.

 _Tastes like blood._ And _The fuck is in that bag._ And _This is nice, keep doing this._

Daniel’s hands curled around him, one coming around and grabbing him over his ribs, the other reaching around his thigh, gripping the denim beneath his knee to pull him closer. Armand cut a deft slash across his tongue and pressed his chest to Daniel’s as the Blood crossed through the kiss. A groan came out from deep in Daniel’s throat, and his cock began to stir against Armand’s leg.

Armand’s instinct was to withdraw, to tease, and despite the pleasure he was feeling, Daniel tensed in anticipation. He sucked Armand’s bleeding tongue into his mouth, trying to savor it, drawing on it to get as much as he could before the inevitable loss.

But no, not tonight. His hands went soft in Daniel’s hair, fingertips massaging patterns into his scalp. Tonight was about pleasure and indulgence and Armand was feeling generous.

Daniel’s hips ticked upward, grinding himself into Armand’s weight. He could feel that his tongue was healing on its own, and he let Daniel drink until all of it was gone. When he pulled away Daniel was gasping for breath. He put his hands on Daniel’s face, holding him at a distance to stare. Faint blush on his cheeks, not just the need, but the way the Blood always activated him. Moments earlier, his eyes had been bloodshot and sleep-deprived, but now they were bright, violet glinting in the light, pupils dilated. Armand remembered the feeling well. As a mortal it had been like being lit on fire.

It was enough that Daniel’s neediness had faded, and now he was basking in the aftershock. Adjusting to it. Colors in the room must be deepening for him, the sounds from the city outside no longer noise, but disguised as something melodic. His mouth hung open, lips swollen and pink.

_So beautiful, so beautiful._

He seemed so delicate like this, tender and fragile and utterly human. Armand’s thumbs ran over the beginnings of lines at the corners of his eyes, like he could wipe them away. He leaned in to kiss across the light freckles on his cheeks.

Even in the Blood haze, Daniel froze beneath the scrutiny, self-consciousness burning through the elated cloud. He leaned back as far as he could in the chair.

“What?”

His brow creased, and even when his face relaxed again Armand could see the wrinkle that stayed behind. He pressed his fingertips against it as if he could smooth it down, but when he withdrew his hand he could still see it there. It made something jolt in his chest. Daniel’s eyes were still wide; he was still waiting for an answer. Armand could only offer a half-smirk in return.

“Nothing.”

Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but Armand slipped off his lap and took him by the wrist before he could get the words out.

“Come here, Daniel,” he said. He tugged at Daniel’s wrists to get him to stand, and grabbed the shopping bag off the table. When they got closer to the bed he slid a finger through one of Daniel’s beltloops, pulling him close and kissing him again. Armand had to go up on his toes to reach, and Daniel bent to meet him halfway. He pulled away to whisper against the corner of Daniel’s mouth. “I bought something for you.”

A choked laugh huffed out. Still the routine, the act, as if he were really this stubborn. But the grin was tugging at his face, and Armand could see the warmth in his eyes, the openness, the amusement. He could hear Daniel’s heart beat a little faster. He put his hand over Daniel’s chest to feel it for a moment before shoving him away, firm but playful, so that the backs of his legs hit the bed and he sprawled across the mattress. He dropped the bag into Daniel’s lap.

The paper crinkled in Daniel’s hands, and he crushed it in his fists as he sat up. His gaze locked with Armand’s as he reached inside, and Armand noticed it in the expression, could tell the moment Daniel had touched it and realized what it was. At first he froze, and took a beat to breathe, before he broke their eye contact to look inside.

The bag was obstructing Armand’s view, but something told him that the early embers of arousal from minutes earlier had burned into legitimate need. He didn’t have to see; he knew how it sounded in Daniel’s body, and had learned the way his mouth would part, the way his breathing would get heavy, how the blood would creep up into his cheeks. Armand didn’t have to see the tell at Daniel’s groin—he could read it right off the boy’s face.

“You…” Daniel trailed off, air pushing out of his lungs. His thoughts weren’t coherent, either. The colored deepened on his face.

“This was what you wanted.”

He swallowed hard enough that Armand saw his throat working under the skin. “Yeah.”

“Is it to your liking?”

“It’s…” his heart beat faster, “…yeah. It’s fine.”

Armand smiled and came closer. He moved the bag off of Daniel’s lap, to the side, so that he could climb on again, straddling Daniel’s thighs. He held the sides of Daniel’s neck as they kissed, tracing over the beating pulse. Daniel’s hips began to roll softly upward, into a rhythm that Armand decided to match. Moving against each other like this had Daniel moaning against Armand’s lips. He swept his hands down over Daniel’s shoulders, then across his chest, down over his ribs. When he reached the hem of Daniel’s t-shirt and slipped his fingers underneath to touch the heated bare skin, Daniel gasped.

 _Cold hands._ Ah, yes. He’d wanted to be hungry for this.

“I didn’t feed tonight, Daniel,” he confessed, pulling away and laying a kiss near Daniel’s ear. He bit lightly on the earlobe as he ran his hands higher, coaxing Daniel to lift his arms so that Armand could pull the shirt up and over his head. He discarded it to the side and leaned back in to kiss again. Cold hands flat against Daniel’s chest again, and then traveling downward to the waist of his jeans. He pressed the tip of his index finger to the brass button, letting his palm rest against the hard swell of lust.

_Please bite me._

“Shh,” Armand soothed. He kissed the side of Daniel’s face, wet and open, and let his fangs graze, just barely. Just enough. “Not yet, lover.”

_Lover._

Then he was sliding backwards and down to the floor, and was on his knees between Daniel’s legs before Daniel realized it was happening. He unbuttoned Daniel’s jeans and began to slide them down over his thighs, underwear with them, needing Daniel to lift himself up for a quick moment to assist.

 _Please, please bite me_ , Daniel was thinking again, completely naked now. Armand kissed the soft skin inside his thigh, grazing his fangs again. He could hear Daniel’s pulse through his femoral artery. Just the hint of teeth and Daniel was picturing it in his mind, the sharp pain and the dizziness that followed. He was thinking about the way the hot blood would feel against the surface of his skin, the way it would mix with the soft wetness of Armand’s lips, the slight pressure as Armand pulled at the wounds. And…

Armand drew in a hard breath and pressed his forehead against Daniel’s leg. The images threatened his composure, his resolve. Without looking, he reached up and gave Daniel a shove against his sternum so that he fell backwards onto the bed. He took a moment there, rubbing his cheek against the warmth of Daniel’s inner thigh, enjoying the way he could see the chills rising in the skin.

And this part. He laid kisses in a line until he could feel the hard, flat plane of Daniel’s pelvis. He’d watched so many others do this to Daniel, to prepare him, and knew the things that would make Daniel squirm. He could always hear it beneath the whimpering, the _more_ ’s and the _right there_ ’s. This was new, but Daniel would guide him.

He kneaded his hands into the plump cheeks, waiting until he received a twitch as a reaction, Daniel’s legs reflexively trying to close around him. His nails dug in just enough for Daniel to gasp, and then his muscles tensed as Armand spread him apart. A moan stuttered out as Armand leaned in and made the first slow lap across Daniel’s hole. He kept his tongue flat and went over two more times, then paused. Waited.

_Don’t stop._

He grinned and blew across it, watching the way it twitched and clenched from the cool air. He squeezed his hands tighter, nails digging in so that Daniel jerked. But he still waited.

Daniel’s voice caught in his throat when he finally spoke. “Please…”

One hand dragged up the back of Daniel’s thigh, pushing his leg up and out of the way. The other reflexively went over Armand’s shoulder as he leaned back in. His hips were still rolling in that same slow rhythm. Armand wasn’t sure if it was on purpose, but tried to match it as he continued. Slow, broad strokes at first, then teasing upwards onto his perineum, and then a moment to mouth at his balls. Daniel’s hands were twisting into the sheets. He came back down and kissed at the rim, gently, and Daniel’s movements slowed. When he came to a stop, Armand opened his mouth and sucked. His hips startled upward and his legs instinctively tried to close, but Armand’s hand held him steady.

“Fuck, Armand—“

The inside of his thigh pressed to the side of Armand’s head, and he could hear the artery there, so close by his ear. With every beat he could feel his thirst growing, tingling in his nerves. He pulled his mouth away and licked again, the muscle slick with saliva now. He listened for cues but Daniel’s thoughts were too disjointed to be of use. But this was perfect, this was exactly where he wanted Daniel. All thoughts in the boy’s head were revolving around the pleasure, something he couldn’t articulate. There wasn’t space left for words there.

He pulled back, nibbling the skin on the inside of Daniel’s leg so that he yelped, and touched his rim with a fingertip, circling around. He put light pressure against it without pushing in, enjoying the whine it produced. And…

His eyes looked over Daniel’s body and past it, across the bed to the nightstand. He knew the bottle was in the drawer on the left, that’s where it always was when Daniel needed it. He began to withdraw to get it, as Daniel was in no shape to try to reach, but…

Daniel coming apart like this was too arousing. He didn’t think he had it in him to interrupt. He pressed his thumb to the indent, feeling the moisture there, seeing the pink tinge staining his skin. And…

After all this time, still firsts. It had never occurred to him to try before.

Brief flash of pain, pesky and unimportant, as he bit his tongue. He hesitated for a moment to let it pool in his mouth before leaning back in to kiss. It spilled out over his lips as he opened his mouth against Daniel’s hole again, and the effect was instant when he pushed his tongue inside. Daniel’s muscles seized and his legs trembled, and his hands immediately went into Armand’s hair. Fingers tangling into the curls and tugging so that Armand hummed against him.

“Arma-aand—“

Armand found himself grinning and slowly pulled away. He lifted his head so that he could see Daniel’s face. Daniel was trying to hold him down so that he wouldn’t stop, fists pulling tight at his hair, but the force of human strength was completely meaningless.

“Yes, Daniel?”

He could feel blood on his chin. He knew Daniel was about to scold him for stopping.

“Don’t—“ but before he could finish, Armand had replaced his tongue with his fingers, and leaned back so that Daniel’s hands fell away. They grasped for the sheets again as Armand crawled up onto the bed and hovered over him. He wiped the blood from his face with his free hand while the other continued to work Daniel open. The blood had made him so warm and slick and his breathing was so labored now, practically gasping against every movement, eyes wide and pupils so stretched that his eyes seemed nearly black.

_The Blood…!_

He’d never seen it work so fast, never seen such immediacy. Daniel was stuck somewhere between pain and ecstasy, like it was hitting too hard. It seemed like he was struggling for breath. _The Blood the Blood the Blood_. Earlier, at the table, the kiss had been deep but still just a taste. This was the real indulgence. Armand tried to tap into what he was feeling, but it was all static. Too much sensation to even understand.

“What do you need, Daniel?” he whispered, close to Daniel’s ear.

He was blinking hard, focus lost somewhere on the ceiling. All the muscles in his body were seizing over and over, one group at a time. He twitched hard enough that his shoulders came off the bed. He cried out when Armand curled into his prostate and all hope for speech dissolved.

Armand slowed his fingers. “Focus, Daniel. What do you need?”

_Please will you bite me?_

He made a show of testing the point of one fang with the tip of his tongue. Daniel gave his head a shake and tried to meet Armand’s eyes. He still seemed so distant, so confused. _Blood, blood. Fuck I’m so fuckin high. Fuck don’t stop._

Armand raised his eyebrows and scissored his fingers. “I didn’t quite hear that, Daniel.”

“Please,” and the voice was so weak, so small, so entangled in the desperate whine. His hand went to touch his dick, neglected this whole time and dripping onto his stomach, but Armand grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Please, Armand. Please.”

“Tell me what you need.”

Skin glowing now with a layer of sweat.

“Bite me, please,” he whined. “Please, I need it.”

Armand’s stomach pinched and rolled. He was still holding Daniel by the wrist and lifted it to his mouth, nuzzling against the skin and breathing in the scent. He opened his mouth, and pressed his teeth down just enough to make an indent, fangs pressing little dimples into the flesh. Daniel held his breath in anticipation.

“What else, Daniel?”

The noise of frustration that came out was so pathetic, so small. He closed his mouth around the teeth marks, biting down just enough this time, as hard as he dared without breaking the skin. _I don’t want to hurt you, Daniel_ , he felt the response pass over Daniel’s body as the silent message was received. It was the Blood; so strong now, so susceptible to these things.

“I don’t care,” panting and squirming. “Hurt me, I don’t care. Bite me, kill me, whatever.”

Kill you? His brow creased. He pulled back from Daniel’s wrist, then let it drop to the bed. If Daniel hadn’t been swimming and hazy from the swoon he might have had the grace to seemed startled. But instead blinked up at Armand helplessly, still breathing hard, pressing himself down on Armand’s fingers.

“No, Daniel,” Armand slowed his motions and began to pull out. “What else.”

_Oh god oh please._

Armand bent lower to press his lips to Daniel’s throat. “Tell me, Daniel.”

Such a tortured, pleading little noise when he pulled out completely, and Daniel rolling on his side to cling to Armand, burying his face in the auburn curls, grabbing at his t-shirt to pull him closer. Hips did a swivel to grind his hardon against Armand’s leg.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please, Armand.”

_Please what, Daniel?_

“ _Please will you fuck me?_ ”

Armand sank his teeth into Daniel’s neck before he even realized it. But it was over as fast as it started; just a taste that he couldn’t resist. It hit his mouth hard and fast, salty and thick and hot and he had to close his eyes and clench his fists to make himself stop. Just a taste, just a little bit. Daniel squeezed closer at the sudden pain, and Armand could see it like a color coming off of him, the pain a deep purple vapor. He licked over the wounds as they healed, breathing hard through his nose as he tried to focus.

Daniel was frozen there, unmoving, maybe waiting for a command or maybe needing a minute himself, overstimulated and dizzy from it. After a moment, Armand began to ease himself away, gently removing Daniel’s hands from his body and withdrawing to the edge of the bed so that he could stand. Daniel’s eyes traced after him, desperate and needy, feeling neglected already. He propped himself up on his eyebrows and watched as Armand pulled off his shirt and dropped it to the floor, then began to unbutton his jeans.

“Put it on me, Daniel,” he said. He let his pants pool on the ground and stepped closer. At first, Daniel didn’t move. He blinked slowly, eyes glassy, and swallowed. Armand could hear how dry his throat was. His cock twitched, hovering red and swollen and dripping precum onto his stomach. Heavy silence in the room as the direction settled into Daniel’s awareness. Then, finally, he sat all the way up. Eyes were still hazy with Blood and need, but becoming alert.

He didn’t look away from Armand as he reached to the side for the bag, still waiting there the whole time. Paper crinkling as he reached inside, and the metal clink of the buckle. The harness first, discarded into Daniel’s lap so that he could retrieve the shining black implement. His fingers were curled around it almost purposefully when he pulled it out, and he broke from Armand’s gaze to look down at it. Thick but pliable, and wavering slightly as he went to lock it into place. It gleamed in the light and gave off the vague chemical scent of the PVC. He held it there for a moment, staring down at it in his lap like it was a puzzle.

“Come here,” he whispered.

A warm hand snatched at the back of Armand’s thigh once he was close enough. Armand smiled and savored the taste of Daniel’s blood that still hung in his mouth as he looked down to watch. A gentle rub up and down to coax him to lift his leg, and when he stepped into the harness he leaned in even closer, weight pressing softly against Daniel’s shoulders. For all his need, Daniel had slowed down, doing his best to breathe evenly and pace himself, all warmth and patience as he slid the straps up until they were in pulled across Armand’s hips.

“Tell me if it’s too tight,” he said, and slid the buckles into place. Armand ran his fingers through Daniel’s hair, pushing the loose bangs out the way, watching as the blonde eyebrows knit in concentration, seeing the way the lines in his skin became more visible as he frowned. When the movements stilled he let out a sigh of triumph. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Daniel looked up and suddenly seemed so…

Innocent? Boyish? All huge eyes and childish freckles, pink cheeks and thick lashes.

The eye contact finally broke as he brought his attention back to the harness, the triangle base hovering just above Armand’s dormant real parts. Daniel had touched them to adjust the straps, making sure everything was in place, and Armand felt the typical rush of excitement vibrate through; even though Daniel knew he wouldn’t respond, there had always been this delighted reaction any time he’d come in contact. Armand knew he was tempted to lean forward and take it into his mouth, but he simply bit down on his lip and tried to concentrate on the task at hand as he gave a final once-over to make sure everything was strapped in.

He gave the dildo a small tug to make sure it was secure, and then looked back up. His hands were trembling.

“Good, Daniel,” Armand said. He touched it himself, laying a slow stroke from tip to root to see how it felt. It made Daniel’s jaw clench. “Why don’t you lie down.”

Daniel nodded, wordless, and crawled backwards until he was near the head of the bed. Heart was racing. Armand took another moment to look down at it, holding it in his hand and pushing it from side to side, just to see. The sleek black made such a stark contrast to the unnatural white of his hand, and suddenly it made him feel… silly? Strange, suddenly, and self-conscious in a way he hadn’t felt in forever. And it was almost enough to make him stop, but…

He lifted his head. Daniel was waiting so patiently, his longing muted and hidden beneath the calm mask.  There was nervousness, but it wasn’t fear. Something all together more open and soft. His knees came apart, either an instinct or an invitation, maybe both, and he reached out his hand.

_Please, Armand. I want it._

No judgment here, no amusement. Armand nodded.

He came around to the side of the bed, the dildo feeling clumsy there at his pelvis. He touched it again as he went in the nightstand for the lube, then crawled onto the bed.

Daniel was still loose and open when Armand touched him again, this time with proper lubricant. His fingers slid in and out with almost no resistance. He settled between Daniel’s legs and leaned in to kiss him. The harness pressed back and dug into his pubic bone and he knew the dildo was rubbing up against Daniel, though he couldn’t feel it. The pressure had Daniel gasping.

And it was time, wasn’t it? He bit Daniel’s lip as he pulled away, gently, and sat back on his knees. He poured more lube in his hand and spread it across the PVC.

_Oh god, please say it. Say it. Tell me._

An eyebrow raised as he heard the thought, and he opened his mouth to tease, to taunt, but the look on Daniel’s face stopped him. Such raw devotion, raw desire. Desperate, palpable affection there, and the hair was raising on the back of his neck in anticipation.

So Daniel wanted him to say it.

Well, that was easy enough.

Armand hooked an arm under Daniel’s thigh and dragged him closer. He saw the way Daniel’s abs clenched as he started, and how his wet, neglected dick bobbed there. One hand steadied Daniel under the knee as the other held the dildo in place, the tip hovering right at Daniel’s entrance.

“Daniel.”

His back arched off the mattress, body molding against Armand’s, and he tried to get closer, to lower himself down onto it, but Armand’s unmoving and eerie strength held him in place.

“Daniel,” he said again.

And he looked so irritated, the patience wearing away now that he was so close, now that the lull was fading out and he was so turned on again. Petulant again, a little angry.

“What?”

Armand let the tip just touch against Daniel’s hole, just rest there.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said.

_Yes, yes, tell me. Say it._

He moved it in a slow circle, teasing, only enough pressure to make Daniel squirm and whine.

“Is this what you want?”

_Yes, Jesus Christ, yes._

Then the groaning, coming from such a deep, warm place, made sweet by blood and need. Shameless and heated and so very alive as Armand’s hips canted forward and Daniel opened up around it.  The way the lines in his throat appeared as he threw his head back. His hands came forward blindly to touch Armand’s chest.

It was different than Armand remembered. He supposed the mechanics were the same, but a partner had never felt so light in his arms, it had never been so effortless to hold someone’s leg out of the way to make room. And he couldn’t _feel_ it, not just in regards to his own pleasure, but for Daniel’s safety. He leaned in but he listened carefully for any clue to Daniel’s discomfort. Didn’t want to go too hard or deep, wasn’t trying to hurt him.

But Daniel seemed fine. His thighs were trying to squeeze inward—though Armand was still gripping one beneath the knee, the other curled around Armand’s hip and pulled him closer. His heel dug into Armand’s ass next to the harness strap, encouraging him to go deeper.

Armand knew he could listen for clues, but it occurred to him that it might be more direct just to ask, especially with the way Daniel had responded to the verbal cues already. He grabbed the base of the dildo to steady it, watching carefully as it sank further in Daniel’s body.

“Tell me how you want it, Daniel,” he let go of the dildo and squeezed Daniel’s other leg, holding him open. He tilted his hips forward, enjoying the instant reaction as Daniel’s back arched against it. “Tell me how you like it.”

Incoherent noises coming out, and he reached to touch himself, stroking in time with the thrusts. There was a taunt waiting there at the edge of Armand’s mind, on the tip of his tongue; normally he would remind Daniel that he should ask permission to do something like that, just for the sake of hearing his breathless little pleas, but not tonight. Not now. This seemed too important, and the role seemed too far away.

“Hard,” Daniel panted. Armand slid his hands around to the fronts of Daniel’s thighs, pulling them towards his body so that Daniel’s legs were propped on his shoulders. Daniel’s free hand reached to touch Armand’s leg in turn, squeezing, provoking. He clung, desperate, as if it could bring them closer, as if the fusion wasn’t already enough. “Fuck me hard.”

Hard, then. With Daniel’s legs held up like this the angle was easier, and he gave a quick thrust forward. Even unable to feel it the way a mortal would, he knew he’d bottomed out when Daniel’s breath came out in a squeak. His blunt fingernails dug into Armand’s thigh and he pumped his other hand faster. Even without the carnal sensation, without knowing the heat and tightness of Daniel’s body in this fashion, he could still feel the desire blooming and burning. He could see the blood rushing to the surface, the pink flush and subtle layer of sweat, the fluttering heartbeat.

_Fuck yes, yes, harder—_

How many times had he watched Daniel make these faces? From a corner, or by tapping into someone else’s thoughts, but never this close. He’d pleasured Daniel before, brought him to orgasm, had him begging and sobbing for it, but this seemed different. Something ritualistic about mimicking the act itself, and something in Daniel that was so inflamed by being _taken_ , and that Armand could do it himself now…

He moved his hips harder, but cautiously. Edging just outside the capabilities of a mortal, but listening to Daniel’s thoughts for a limit. His legs were going weak and falling back as Armand began to hit an even pace, fast enough that it seemed mechanical. Armand steadied him by placing a hand under his knee, pushing forward to fold him. He rolled his hips, changing the angle every few thrusts to seek the right one, waiting for the cry.

And then: “Armand, fuck, fuck, right there, Jesus Christ!”

The hand on Daniel’s cock had gone still, his mouth open and eyes closed, unable to react as Armand zeroed in. _Right there, right there!_ Armand closed his eyes, as well, to focus. The extra heat in the air was making his throat go dry, making the thirst burn. When he looked back up, Daniel was watching his face, and even locked onto the violet eyes all he could see was red. Red and red and red.

Daniel broke the eye contact to lift his head and look down to where their bodies met. The sight of the strap-on coming in and out of his body had him panting, and he squeezed his cock again, twisting a few times around the dripping head. It wasn’t verbal, but Armand knew he was distracted somehow. He could feel how smooth it was, how fake, even beneath the chaos of his prostate being struck over and over he was so aware that Armand was _a dead thing._ Armand clenched his jaw and thrust harder.

But maybe…

He tried to envision what it used to be like. Thought back to the nights in the brothels. Part of it was trying to remember how the act of sex felt when he was the one in control, but for Daniel’s sake he tried to remember the consuming feeling of submission as well. The fullness and the burning friction, the difference in intensity that could flourish from the inside. The memories were distant, faded, but maybe it was enough to...

Daniel’s voice was a broken staccato of sobs and his head dropped back against the pillows. And it was working, Armand knew. He could feel it, the way the visions were being accepted into Daniel’s mind, the way the Blood in his body was accepting its source. Armand wondered if he was squeezing Daniel’s leg too hard; there might be a bruise later, but he could feel that Daniel wasn’t uncomfortable with it. Any pain was melting into the ecstasy, and Armand knew it was ecstasy.

“How…” he had to bite his lip to stifle a cry before he could finish the question. _How is he doing that?_

It was working, and Daniel was floating where there was no room for true consciousness. Not enough space to focus when his body was being taken apart like this. Eyes were going watery as Armand pounded in hard enough that his useless parts were slapping into Daniel’s ass. Jaw quivering as he reached up to grab the back of Armand’s neck.

“Kiss me,” he moaned, and hovered there, waiting for Armand to meet him halfway. _It’s so real, it’s so real._

The warmth rising off Daniel was so overwhelming when he leaned down like this, bare chests pressing together as their mouths met. All heat and blood and sweat, the stubble and chapped lips and taste of stale coffee. The faint, endearing vibration as Daniel moaned again. Armand’s fangs nicked the eager tongue, and then he was moaning as well as the taste hit him, and he thrust harder so that Daniel’s free hand came up and scratched him across the shoulder blades. He could feel every inch of the wounds, raw and open, and could feel his cells mending back together. It was small, the sensation, but enough.

He cradled Daniel’s skull in his hands, steadying himself by leaning his forearms against the mattress around Daniel’s head. Daniel’s ankles hooked behind Armand’s hips and he squeezed his legs together. Pressure and heat and skin. Armand buried his face in Daniel’s neck. Between their two bodies he was still pumping himself frantically, but his other hand hand come around and groped at Armand’s ass. Nails driving into the cool flesh and commanding a rhythm as he dug in.

 _Harder._ “Fuck me harder,” he pleaded.

Sweat had broken out across Armand’s forehead now, too, and he marveled at the pink stain it left on Daniel’s throat when he pulled back to stare. His lips were swollen and his tongue was still bleeding. The smell was going straight to Armand’s head, cloying and thick in the air between them. He swallowed a mouthful of it but it had left red stains on his teeth. Armand dipped his head down to lick across Daniel’s mouth, just getting a quick taste. His fingers ran across Daniel’s scalp and took a handful of hair so that his head bent back and all the lines of his trachea stood out.

“Harder?” one hand traced down his body and came to rest on the crest of his hip. Quick squeeze to check the response, as if checking the ripeness of a fruit. And the _noises_ coming out. Armand couldn’t help laughing, despite himself. Daniel’s face was so needy and tortured that he almost looked hurt by it, but Armand calmed him by licking the blood off of his teeth. “How much harder do you need, Daniel? You’re insatiable.”

_Please._

“Armand, fuck,” he whined.

“Oh, Daniel,” he purred. He pushed the damp hair away from the boy’s eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It took a degree of focus to steady himself, to pace himself, to find the restraint inside. He put his hands on Daniel’s hips, hooking his thumbs into his hip bones, nails leaving crescent indents. Not too hard—he could break something if he went too hard, shatter bones—but he could go faster. Quick, shallow thrusts that had Daniel wailing.

“Armand, Armand—!”

He pulled almost all the way out and paused there, waiting for the anger to settle on Daniel’s face before pounding back in. It had Daniel so ready—Armand could hear it coiling in the boy’s body and saw the way his eyes were beginning to shade in that way they usually did. He’d seen this part so many times.

“Armand,” voice lost in the heaving breaths, “slow down, slow down.”

“Oh?” he pinched Daniel’s waist. “I thought you liked getting fucked hard, Daniel.”

_Jesus, fuck, Jesus Christ._

“You’re gonna make me come, slow down,” he begged. He stopped touching himself and placed his hand flat against Armand’s chest. His palm was so hot and damp.

Armand found himself laughing again, softly. He took Daniel by the wrists and pinned them over his head. Laid into him with decisive, firm strokes.

“Oh, my Daniel,” he chuckled and placed a chaste kiss on Daniel’s lips, still able to taste the blood, and then licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. “ _Good_.”

And then it was happening. The legs went tighter around him, and Armand knew if this were a traditional coupling that he’d be able to feel Daniel flexing and clenching around him. Instead he could only take cues from the way Daniel’s abs were twitching, only a moment of warning before the thick spurts of cum spilled out over his belly. He lifted his head for a kiss, his whole body tilting upwards so that the mess smeared across Armand as well.

_So real, so real._

Armand wasn’t sure what the etiquette was here, the process for the next few steps, but he found his need dictated over reason as he bit into Daniel’s neck. He hadn’t pulled out yet and gave Daniel’s another weak thrust as his body began to sink into aftershocks, almost spasming. It made the blood gush harder into Armand’s mouth.

He pet Daniel’s hair back as he took in the visions coming through the blood. Daniel’s thoughts were always such a tangled knot, memory and emotion and fantasy gathered together in no discernible order. It flashed from drinking root beer at the soda shop counter with his dad to holding Armand’s hand in the dark movie theatre during _Halloween_. Then the interview, and then smoking pot out of an apple in the woods behind his dorm. His first girlfriend and the pregnancy scare, the flood of relief whenever Armand showed back up. And even now, the desire, the gratitude, in his blood like a flavor that Armand could taste. Reliving the last few moments and basking in them, his imagination filling the gaps. He was picturing that Armand had come, too, that it filled him. That Armand was going soft and ready to pull out, and that he would drip in the wake. He wasn’t remembering the cold, too-smooth glide of a toy, but the friction and contour of a real dick.

After a moment he healed the wounds, and laid there with his lips still open against the skin, tasting the salt. Daniel’s pulse was beating against him and the sound of it was like a lullaby. There was an urge to just curl up here, warm himself against the living body, stay still as long as he could. Moments like this made eternity seem less daunting. If all that time could be this easy, this…

It almost killed the feeling of afterglow, and his eyes opened. He wrapped his arms tighter around Daniel, until the boy let out a quiet _oof_.

“Armand…” he wiggled against the bed. “Armand I can’t breathe.”

“Oh.”

He let up, and leaned back, settled on his knees and carefully pulled out. It took a moment of fiddling with all the buckles before he was free from the harness and he discarded it to the edge of the bed. Then he crawled back into place, folding against him, pressing his cheek to the space over Daniel’s heart, so that it pumped beneath his ear. The cum smeared against his arm as he wrapped himself around, holding tight.

“Armand…?” Daniel shifted, spent and loose but restrained by the cage of Armand’s limbs.

 _What is it, Daniel._ He didn’t even lift his head.

“Can you…?” his hand made a gesture that Armand didn’t understand. “My tongue.”

Oh.

Right.

_Of course, beloved._

He lifted himself and came in to lay the Blood Kiss down, indulging in the final taste. He could feel the wounds closing, the rich, familiar taste of Daniel becoming fainter and fainter as he drank the last of it in. Even such a small dose lit up his nerves, tingled in his fingertips. And he could’ve stopped, because Daniel was healed, and the blood was gone. He could’ve pulled back, and insisted Daniel come take a shower. He could’ve bathed him, and ordered the late night room service to make sure he ate something, and tucked him in and slipped away once he’d fallen asleep. Left him water and aspirin on the nightstand and closed the curtains so that the sun wouldn’t wake him in the morning. It’s what he should’ve done.

But no. He continued the kiss, lazy and warm, even once the taste of blood had gone. Unhurried. His fingertips came up to trace the line of Daniel’s jaw, and Daniel’s hand brushed slow circles into Armand’s back. All those other things were practical and he knew he should do them. But this was nice, too.

And it was a line crossed.

It had been easy to make excuses and gloss over what was transpiring between them. And even as Daniel’s thoughts changed over time, and Armand could feel the emotions shifting, he was also hearing that Daniel believed him less and less. No, it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. Daniel knew. It wasn’t just Armand’s flare for drama. For months now, maybe years, something had been growing here. And now…

The kisses slowed and then stopped. He snuggled in closer, Daniel’s body heat transferring over to his own skin. He rubbed his face against Daniel’s chest and listened as the breathing went slow and even.

He could hear Daniel’s thoughts, even when he slept. He could see the things Daniel was dreaming about. Memories again, how he’d fallen asleep in the movie theatre during _North to Alaska_ and woken up in his father’s arms as they stepped back out into the bright sun. Scratch of his father’s stubble against his head, and the amusement in the steely eyes.

Armand sat up in bed, slowly, and stared down into Daniel’s face. Peaceful, spent. There were still the signs of wear in his skin, the faint hint of crows feet, the crease in his forehead that was becoming permanent. But the dark circles were gone for now, and the scowl.

It was going to be dawn soon. Armand had to leave.

He kissed Daniel’s forehead.

“You look like your father,” he whispered.

Daniel mumbled a noise in his sleep and turned onto his side without waking.

Then, as Armand was standing up and backing away, the sleepy murmur into the pillow.

“I’ll kill myself before I get that old.”

He lay awake in his coffin later, safely hidden away in the dark, waiting anxiously for the dawn to release him. He couldn’t calm the uncomfortable feeling that had risen in his chest at Daniel’s words. It was like a knot, stuck there in his ribs, heavy and aching. The pain seemed familiar but it had been such a long time since he felt it like this. He folded his arms over his stomach and waited. Vague tug at his muscles was starting to settle in, and he wanted that. Wanted to be swept under, wanted it faster. But it was finally here now, seizing him bit by bit.

_Amadeo… they are all going to die._

But Master…

The feeling was still there when he woke, and was there the night after. Sitting there on his chest when he’d open his eyes, so consistent that he began to expect it. And finding Daniel bleary-eyed and unshaven, hungover and shaky because he forgot to eat made his heart writhe in his chest, flutter like a trapped bird. Night after night, but something had been broken here and he couldn’t just walk away from it anymore.

And now… now…

Balmy early evening on Night Island, curtains swaying lightly in the open windows. And noise from the streets way down below, voices and laughter floating like music. Bass from the record player thrumming something deep in Armand’s body, rhythm threading itself into Daniel’s veins so that it dictated his pace.

“So you be forewarned, I’ll come prowling after you. When I catch ya, Lord I’m never gonna let you go.”

The amulet swung down from the chain around Daniel’s neck and thudded against Armand’s chest. There was a little spark of something there, a zap against his skin, like the Blood inside knew where it came from. He reached up and grabbed Daniel by the back of his neck. Their kiss deepened, and Armand was arching his back to get as close as he could to the warm body.

He’d fed tonight. Daniel was bent over his desk, scratching away at a notebook when Armand left at sunset. He stole a glance through the window before taking off and hunting in Miami. Three victims, though he knew two would’ve been enough. Something distant was telling him that their bodies folding in his hands should worry him, should remind him of Daniel, that their frailty was the same, but the rush of blood, draught after draught, silenced it. The heat radiated through his core and he pressed a hand to his stomach, the other to his lips. The warmth, the pull on his nerves that felt like pleasure, the comfortable glow of sated thirst made him want to be home, back on Night Island, in Daniel’s room. Curled up in the soft bed that smelled like him, hovering in his presence. He could feel the great expanse of all his years and everywhere he’d seen, but the only place he wanted to be was by Daniel’s side while there was still time.

Daniel was sitting on the balcony when Armand returned. Paperback book open in one hand, reading in the yellow light spilling through window behind him, other arm holding a knee against his bare chest. One of Armand’s neatly rolled joints was perched in the V of his fingers. Armand watched for a moment before approaching; whatever he had just read had made him pause, and he was staring at the page to absorb it. His eyes softened and he took a drag off the joint, holding the smoke in as long as he could before it came out in a thick cloud.

He’d showered and shaved and his hair was slicked back. And it was one of those humid nights where the air had weight, and Armand knew that his hair was never going to dry out here. His eyes went back and forth over the page again, and Armand could hear his voice reading the words in his head as he took another hit, going over and over the sentence. _This inhuman place makes human monsters. This inhuman place makes human monsters._

When Armand finally emerged from the shadows and slipped into the mamasan chair beside him, Daniel didn’t seem startled. He turned his head slowly, lids hooded over red eyes, and gave a twitchy little smile like he was trying not to laugh.

“Good morning,” he said, and closed his book. He dropped it into his lap. Armand’s thumb rubbed over a smudge of chalky styptic residue on Daniel’s jaw. Daniel winced.

“You cut yourself,” Armand said. Daniel shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal.”

But Armand had already bit a hole in his finger, and was smearing it over the wound. Daniel’s smile melted from the stoned almost-laughing to something loving and genuine.

“Thanks.”

Daniel turned sideways in the chair and draped his legs over Armand’s lap. He only wore sweatpants and the amulet. It glinted in the light.

“What do you wanna do tonight?” he sucked at the joint again. Armand ran his hand up and down Daniel’s shin. There was a piney note in the smoke that mixed well with the gentle scent of Daniel’s shampoo. The pot had taken the edge off his thoughts, and they were fuzzy and relaxed. _Mmm, he’s warm._

Armand shrugged. “I didn’t make any plans.”

A beat of silence, then Daniel coughed out a chestful of smoke. His body came forward, bending in half, and Armand rubbed his back to coax him through it.

“Are you all right, Daniel?” shoulders shook beneath his hand but Daniel was nodding, and lifted a thumbs up. Armand took the joint from him now, burned down enough that it was almost a roach, and he pinched the ember out with his fingertips before tossing the rest of it to the floor. He pet Daniel’s damp hair.

 _I’m fine._ Still coughing, but projecting the thought out. After another moment it finally stopped, and when he looked up eyes were gleaming and bloodshot. But the smile still, again on the edge of laughter. Even though Armand knew it was drug-induced, he savored it. He hadn’t seen Daniel this relaxed in quite a while.

Daniel leaned in, and when they kissed he tasted like smoke. Slightly different than the usual cigarette taste, a little deeper, with the bold herbal undertone. He slid closer across the cushions until he was nearly seated in Armand’s lap. _Ask him, ask him,_ he was telling himself. He moaned into Armand’s mouth.

Armand tensed beneath him but tried to hide it by shifting and squeezing one of Daniel’s thighs. Ask him what? _Ask him._

A damp strand of hair fell down over his eye when he pulled away. For a moment he just stared. His thoughts were going in mellow, childish loops, the way they usually did when he was stoned like this. _Look at him, look at him, so beautiful. Just ask, just ask. So pretty. Ask him._

Armand almost asked for a clarification; a simple _Ask me what, Daniel?_ , but stopped himself. Something about the sweet, nearly innocent haze in Daniel’s eyes made him feel guilty for hearing it at all. Instead, he stroked his thumb across Daniel’s bottom lip and said nothing. The silence hung thick between them but didn’t feel uncomfortable yet. Daniel’s mind was swimming.

His voice cracked when he finally spoke, maybe from nerves, maybe just torn raw from the coughing fit. His mouth opened, then closed. Brow came together and head tilted to the side as he collected himself. Then he tried again. And, finally, the voice, so soft and open. So genuinely curious.

“Can I ask you something?”

Armand nodded. Daniel chewed on his lip for a moment, his teeth peeling back a thin layer of skin until it bled. Armand perked up at the scent of the blood, but left it alone for now. He made the mental note to heal it later.

“Why…” Daniel paused and shifted his weight to slide back down onto the seat cushion and out of Armand’s lap. His book fell down onto the floor. Armand wasn’t listening for the thoughts, but he could practically see the gears moving in Daniel’s head, chugging slowly to life as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Why do you like to have sex with me?”

Excellent question.

There was a spike in Daniel’s heartbeat, and he sucked at the bleeding corner of his lip. His eyes, though still hooded and stoned, widened a bit.

“I…” his mouth twisted into a frown, caught off guard and not knowing the answer. He touched Daniel’s lip again, then tasted the trace of blood that had smeared onto his thumb. Now Armand’s heart tripped as well. “I enjoy pleasing you.”

Daniel said nothing, and the heavy silence forced Armand to speak again. “I’m your slave, Daniel.”

He nodded slowly, taking a minute to process the answer. He was rolling the words over and over in his head. _My slave, my slave._

“But I guess, hmm…” he had to think again, piece his question together. “Cause, you know. You don’t… work like that… so I guess I’m wondering what you get out of it.”

Armand smirked. “I told you, Daniel. I enjoy pleasing you.”

The way Armand stared into him as he answered made Daniel blush, and he looked down at his hands. Nervous, shy, but not afraid. Not ashamed. He was smiling again, the corner of his mouth tugging like it was trying to beam. He was doing his best to keep it under control. _Stop grinning like a dork and ask him. Ask him_.

Again there was the temptation to push for a clarification, but he waited. He rubbed up and down Daniel’s spine to soften him. _You can ask me_ , he wanted to say. Or _Anything, Daniel, what is it?_ but he held his tongue.

_Ask him, ask him now._

Daniel’s mouth opened and he took in a breath, but the words stayed trapped in his throat. Instead he offered a forced smile, tight around the eyes. For a quick second it made his wrinkles pop. He was already turning his body away and starting to stand as he said, “Come inside, I want a drink.”

Armand watched him go, needing the moment alone to compose himself before he followed. He leaned in the open French doors between the balcony and bedroom and watched. Daniel’s glass from earlier was still out on his writing desk, as was the half-drank bottle of Macallan Sherry Oak. He poured himself a shot’s worth and slammed it, then poured another half glass. This time he sipped at it. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and turned around to face Armand. His blunt fingernails tapped a quick, anxious rhythm into the glass before he sipped again and lowered his gaze.

 _What is it?_ Armand wanted to ask. _That wasn’t what you wanted to say._ But his jaw stayed clenched tight.

Then he was moving, feet padding quietly on the carpet as he crossed the room. He put his drink down next to the record player and began fiddling with the buttons. When the arm dropped there was the usual scratch and crackle in the speakers before the music flooded in. Armand could hear the way it instantly calmed him, how the melody instantly relaxed him and gave his mind something to focus on. He was feeling the notes in every inch of his body, tugging his veins like the strings of a marionette. His breathing went steady. _Ask him._

Finally he turned around.

“But does it bother you?” he asked. His cheeks were still red but Armand didn’t think it was the bashfulness anymore; probably just the booze.

“Does what bother me?”

Daniel gestured with his free hand. “Being… used.”

The answer came to Armand in a shock of images, and now he was the one to look away so that he could try to understand them. Too many to tell apart or explain.

“You don’t use me, Daniel,” his voice was quieter than he meant to be. He crossed his arms over his chest.

It seemed like he was about to protest, and he sucked at his bleeding lip again before finally sighing. The music filled the space between them. _I’m driftin’ by, baby, just torn apart._ Daniel’s mind was being pulled along by it, lulled. He took a hard swallow of his drink, so used to it now that he didn’t even wince anymore.

“I just…” _tap tap tap_ against the glass. He lifted his head to meet Armand’s gaze, and his eyes were so big and innocent, and curious and guilty. He downed the rest of it and put the empty glass down next to the record player. There was more to say, and Armand was tempted to probe for the unspoken thoughts, but came across the room instead.  When he touched Daniel’s forearm he saw the goosebumps raise on the bare skin.

“Daniel.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been used before,” he leaned closer, tilting his head back to kiss Daniel’s cheek. “You don’t use me.”

He licked across Daniel’s bottom lip, quick taste of the blood, before sucking it into his mouth and pulling at the wound. Not a deep cut, but satisfying to hear the groan and feel Daniel’s hands come down on his waist. He pressed into Daniel’s body and listened to his heart pumping faster.

“I enjoy it, Daniel,” he said when he drew back. “Don’t you know this?”

Nervous chuckle.

“It pleases me,” he said, “to please you.”

A dry swallow and a strained breath; his lungs were aching.

“Do you know what it’s like, for a vampire? To see the way the blood moves through your body, Daniel?”

The flush in his cheeks deepened and spread down over his neck.

“Yes,” he nudged his face into the warmth there. “Like that, Daniel.”

He had to steel himself to push the images out of his mind.

“I can hear it, you know?” he opened his mouth against the pulsing artery in Daniel’s throat, but didn’t bite. “Your heart. I’m amazed that everyone can’t hear it sometimes.”

Daniel’s fingertips dug into Armand’s sides. His nails left little crescent indents that would never stay bruised.

“It’s beating faster now, Daniel,” his words were muffled against Daniel’s skin. “Does this please you?”

The question was rhetorical, of course. Armand knew. He deliberately leaned his weight against Daniel’s body, knowing how dense and unnatural his body mass felt, and ground his hip against the growing erection, half-hard and twitching. He slid his hands down Daniel’s back, dipping his fingers into the waistband of his pants. The contact elicited a soft gasp. But, for once, it wasn’t from the shock of cold skin. It was pleased, happy. _He’s so warm tonight._

And then he was playing Armand’s words over and over, like they were a recording. _I’ve been used before, I’ve been used before._ His mind opened around them like a chasm; it seemed like his consciousness was expanding to make room for the concept, so full of searching, his imagination sparking off in a web of different directions to make sense of it. Equal parts fascination and empathy, not knowing if it was appropriate to feel such a surge of protectiveness as he stared into Armand’s face. And the edge it put him on, lost there in the gaze. That a creature could look so harmless, so childlike… that Daniel could feel the power in the touch, the _danger_ … his mind was throbbing, unsure where to focus.

Armand’s hands slipped further into his pants, until he’d grabbed two handfuls of Daniel’s ass, and pulled him in closer. Daniel gasped again, and moaned at the friction of his dick against Armand’s hard abs. Without meaning to, he rotated his hips to grind in again.

“I want to devour you, Daniel.”

_You can. Do it._

The hands on his ass squeezed hard enough that Daniel started and yelped, and it had Armand laughing, quietly from his throat, as he kissed a line down Daniel’s neck. He paused to lick the sweat from the hollow of his collar bone. What might have been a playful nip from a human caused Daniel’s muscles to strain, and he gasped from the sudden pain. Armand laughed again as he drew back, and licked over the welt he’d left there. Beneath them, he was sliding Daniel’s pants down, so that his cock sprung forward over the elastic. Armand’s warm hand had grabbed it already when he gave Daniel’s nipple a quick suck, then sank to his knees.

Daniel leaned back against the table, hands slick against the edge and trying to hold himself steady as he watched his dick disappear into Armand’s mouth. Something about the sight of it always set him off, and Armand grinned around him as he looked up. _I can feel it, you know_ , he told Daniel. _The blood in you._ Hearing the voice like that had him moaning and tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. One hand went to Armand’s head, fingers combing the curls back from his face. Just holding him there, palming the back of his skull gently but not trying to take control. He let Armand set the pace.

He hadn’t lied, had he? He stroked up and down Daniel’s cock so that his closed fist bumped into his lips. Feeling the surge of blood beneath his hand as Daniel awoke to full hardness, the difference in heat… no, it wasn’t a lie. There was something thrilling about manipulating the human body like this, and about the unmasked need it revealed.

His lips curled carefully over his fangs, second nature by now, and he sucked hard as he moved up and down, hollowing his cheeks so that Daniel would feel the wet, soft skin. Daniel liked when he did that, Armand knew.

“Mmm, yeah,” Daniel said from above. His fingertips massaged Armand’s scalp. “Just like that.”

_So warm._

It wasn’t something that Daniel was thinking in words, but there was a certain quality to his energy that Armand could feel coming off of him. It was again that feeling that Daniel’s mind had opened, that it had split apart to make more room for this experience he was having. His grip went tighter in Armand’s hair and Armand used his free hand to fondle Daniel’s balls. He could sense that everything, every bit of it, all the signals traveling through every nerve, was taking longer than it should have, that it felt warmer, that the pleasure was spiraling in Daniel’s head until there was no space to comprehend it. He pulled his mouth away to lick a broad stripe up the understand of the swollen dick, and Daniel looked down to meet his eyes. Pupils dilated, lips parted. He was utterly raw and exposed like this, and…

No, not a lie. It made Armand’s chest ache.

_Goddamn, Armand._

He’d hit that soft lull, that plateau where the pleasure was just relaxing, before the sensations became urgent. Daniel was visualizing it like being stuck in a spiral. Except, as his breathing went heavy and his eyes glazed over, it wasn’t a spiral he was falling down into. No, it was going outward, and upward, and stretching bigger, expanding.

“Fuck,” he sighed. His hand came down around the side of Armand’s face cupped his cheek. _You look like fucking jailbait._ Armand wasn’t sure if that was a compliment but it made him smile all the same before swirling his tongue around Daniel’s sensitive head.

_Ask him. Just ask. Just say it._

Daniel’s abs clenched and Armand could taste the precum that was dripping out before he saw it. He closed his mouth against Daniel’s cock again to milk it out.

The boy’s mind was still growing outward, and it made him feel like he was swimming, floating, drowning, so that his hands both found Armand’s hair again, tugging at it, hard enough to feel it. It would’ve been too much for a mortal to take without complaint, but the faint, tingling heat it caused made Armand purr. Daniel hissed at the way it vibrated against him.

“Armand,” he said, and let out a gasp. “Armand, stop.”

_Ask him ask him._

He pulled up and off languidly, licking his lips as he looked up. The wet dick hit him softly on his cheek and left a glossy trail as Armand sat back against his heels.

“What is it, Daniel?”

Daniel’s hands were still holding Armand by the hair, but the grip had let up. With a thumb he pulled a stray curl from in front of Armand’s eyes so that they could see each other better.

Breath hitched in his throat. Final moment of hesitation, and Armand could hear how dry his mouth was when his lips parted to speak.

“Can I fuck you?”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Interesting.

Armand wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. He blinked once, twice. Daniel’s face was slowly collapsing from confident relaxation to uneasy regret. He let go of Armand’s hair to bring a fist to his mouth. It seemed like he was surprised he’d even said it out loud. And, the poor fool, the way his brain was stretching these seconds into hours, the way he was perceiving Armand’s amused gaze to be harsh judgement, had him teetering on the edge of panic.

He squeezed his hand around Daniel’s cock in response. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why would you want to do that, Daniel?”

“I…” quick stroke, and he couldn’t speak. Armand pressed his thumb down against the slit and rubbed back and forth.

Even as he’d asked, he knew the answer was yes. Of course, yes. Anything, Daniel. But there was a selfish part that enjoyed teasing, enjoyed the adorable look of shock. He licked over the mess of precum one more time before he let go and stood. Daniel’s skin was burning red down to his chest, and his mouth was so dry, thoughts swirling and unable to focus. Armand took a step back.

“Would it bother you?” he asked. His face had gone serious, frowning in thought, even as his dick still stood at attention, red and shining and abandoned.

He was already pulling his shirt over his head. “Whether or not I am bothered was not the question, Daniel.”

It actually made Daniel chuckle and his face softened. He stood up straight and removed his pants the rest of the way.

“But does it matter?” he asked. He stepped closer and reached out to pop the button on Armand’s jeans. “I want to.”

There was maybe another goading remark waiting to come out, but he was silenced when Daniel’s hands closed around his hips and pushed him back. He was cooperating, becoming pliable under the weak human hands. Allowing it. He stepped back until he hit the bed, and Daniel bent to kiss him on the mouth. Wet and rushed, and their teeth crashed together. He nipped at Armand’s bottom lip and slid his hands around to grab him by the ass. A tight squeeze, and then he was being hoisted by the back of his thighs, and was off his feet for a disorienting moment before slamming onto his back. It shouldn’t have surprised him, and he knew as he looked up at Daniel towering over him now that he would never have let anyone else do it. He propped himself up on his elbows and lifted his hips so that Daniel could pull his jeans off.

He crawled back into the bed so that he could lie against the pillows as Daniel came around the side and went into the nightstand for lube. The movements seemed rushed, nervous maybe, and it took Armand extending his hand as an invitation for him to calm down and pace himself. He fidgeted with the amulet around his neck while he stared down for a moment, then finally climbed onto the bed and settled between Armand’s legs. Armand shifted and spread his knees apart to make more space. It wasn’t something he knew how to say out loud, but these little signals were working to calm Daniel, make him feel more comfortable.

There wasn’t the same carnal pleasure involved as Daniel prepared him, but the ritual itself felt significant. When their roles were reversed, this part usually had Daniel writhing, with his head thrown back, eyes closed, moaning like he’d die if he didn’t get fucked soon. It felt casual, maybe clinical. But he focused on the tender look of wonder on Daniel’s face, and the way his heart had started to skip, the smell of sweat rising up to mix with the still-present fragrance of soap from when he’d showered. He wondered if this part was even necessary—Daniel surely didn’t need to be this thorough, he wasn’t concerned with the insignificant amount of pain that might come of it. But it seemed like something Daniel wanted to do, that it was part of the process, that he was bridging a gap here that he needed to see through.

_So warm, so fucking warm. Like he’s real._

He put his hand out and placed it over Daniel’s heart, feeling it beating right there in his palm. As Daniel scissored him open there was the sudden crash of thirst, and his mind blazed with the urge to tear right into the boy’s chest. Briefest vision of the stream of blood, that it would drip hot down his wrist, that he’d have those last desperate pumps of the vital muscle beneath his fingertips before it gave up, that he could rip the whole thing out and drink directly from the valves. The idea made him gasp, and he pulled his hand back like it had been burned. The thought of his fingers, slick and red, made him bite his lip.

Concern briefly painted across Daniel’s face, a little surprised by Armand’s reaction, not sure what caused it, but it receded as Armand settled back down. He added a finger and leaned in to kiss.

The song changed and the sound from the record player swelled around them. “It’s so tranquil, it’s so calm like you, but now I hear a noise, is there any way out of this nightmare?”

A soft kiss on the forehead, then his cheekbone. He’d lowered himself so that their chests pressed together and nuzzled against the side of Armand’s face.

“Are you sure?”

He could see stray gray hairs coming from Daniel’s temple. Of course, anything. Anything.

“Are you, Daniel?”

Daniel responded by shifting his weight and kissing again, on the mouth. Armand ran his hands up and down Daniel’s sides, bumping over every rib.

 _Want you so bad_.

“You can have me.”

A shaky breath, and then Daniel was pulling his hand away, sitting back up against his heels. He kissed Armand’s raised knee. He’d dropped one hand into his lap and was fondling himself, unable to help it. There seemed to be a veil between them, a final bastion, and Armand could feel in the silence that they both knew it.

 _Okay_ , Daniel was thinking. _I’m going to do it._

He grabbed the bottle of lube from beside Armand’s leg and popped it back open. Nearly imperceptible wince at the shock of cold as he touched himself with it. A few slow strokes to bring himself back to full hardness, and then he leaned in. He held the base of his dick and rubbed his head up and down across Armand’s hole. _I’m going to do it_ , he thought again.

And then…

He braced himself with his free hand next to Armand’s head, and leaned in to kiss him again. Armand felt it easing into his body as Daniel’s tongue returned to his mouth. He grabbed Daniel by the back of the neck and arched his back to press as much of their skin together as he could. Daniel’s hips froze and he took a moment to adjust, then let go and hooked his arm beneath Armand’s, hand coming around to grip him by the shoulder for leverage. He rocked forward again slowly, and the moan that came from his throat was so deep, utterly exposed. He paused again when he’d bottomed out, breathing deep through his nose as he took a moment to just feel.

_He’s so warm, I never thought it would be this warm. Jesus Christ he’s so tight._

The thrusts were hesitant, experimental. He lowered his head down to Armand’s neck so that they couldn’t see each other’s faces. Hand went tight on Armand’s shoulder as he pulled almost all the way out, then slid back in. Armand dragged his hands down Daniel’s back and grabbed his ass, maybe a little too hard, and kneaded the skin there to encourage his pace.

“It’s okay, Daniel,” he said. “You don’t have to hold back.”

Sloppy wet kiss against his temple and then a grunt as Daniel slammed himself in. He knew his fingernails were leaving indents in Daniel’s skin but it only seemed to excite him. He hooked his ankles behind Daniel’s back and turned to lick the wrist still planted beside his head for balance.

And it felt… surreal. The penetration. His mind was trying to uncover such a vague memory to connect the feeling to, but he shook it away. He wondered again if he’d lied, if it did matter whether or not he was bothered. If he felt used. But…

No.

He nuzzled against Daniel’s wrist and opened his mouth to it. The veins were straining, outlined against the skin, and he sucked at the salt there for a moment. It elicited a tiny breathless squeak and a hard thrust. No, it wasn’t a feeling like being used. There was a rift between them in some ways, something literal, that they were each experiencing different sensations, but to be experiencing them _together_ was the thing that mattered. It felt important. Even without the sense of sexual gratification from the friction of Daniel moving in and out of his body, even as the motions themselves felt somewhat clinical to him, it was worth being so close. There was still the sense of this thing called intimacy.

 _Intimacy_ , Armand thought, and the word rolled over and over in his mind.

“Armand,” Daniel panted. His grip on Armand’s shoulder went tighter as he pulled for leverage. Armand turned his head back to look up at him, and they were kissing again, heated and messy. The corner of Daniel’s mouth was still raw, lip still chapped from when he’d bitten through it earlier, and reopening the wound took no effort at all. Armand sucked at it hard enough that Daniel moaned, but it didn’t stop him. He lowered his chest against Armand’s, dropping the arm that had been holding him up to grab Armand’s other shoulder.

Just the taste of Daniel’s blood from his lip, not even enough to drink but the flavor alone, made Armand moan as well. He ran his hands up Daniel’s back and scratched across his shoulder blades. It wasn’t hard enough to bleed, but he could feel the minute tears in the flesh beneath his nails, and the fragrance rose instantly. The sensation made Daniel’s skin break out with chills.

Daniel was in him and around him, the warmth and sweat and smell of pheromones. He wrapped his legs tighter around Daniel’s waist to trap him there, their bodies rocking together against the mattress.  The blood on Daniel’s lip had dried up and Armand licked at the cracked skin desperately, probing against it for any hint. He knew he’d need a real drink soon, and he was beginning to tremble against the restraint it was taking to wait. There was, again, a quick flash in his mind of Daniel splayed open. This time, he was seeing the thick ropes of arterial spray, imagining them painting stripes across his face if he ripped into Daniel’s throat. And the way the soft tissue would clump in his nails, the way Daniel’s face would go white and ashy, the heartbreaking look of shock that would work his mouth into a little O. He latched onto Daniel’s shoulders and clung to him, moving his hips to meet him. The lewd sound of their bodies slapping together mixed with the erratic rhythm of Daniel’s breath, and his pulse, and the music still flowing and voices from the people on the walkways below.

“Armand,” he said again, and the vague suggestion of human strength was so tiny and pathetic as he tried to pull away. His thrusts stuttered and the pace slowed and he planted his hands flat on the bed to push himself up. Effortless, to keep him where he was, but Armand obliged. A tender sweep of his hands down Daniel’s sides as he let go, and eased his legs down. Daniel’s hand, his palm damp, locked around Armand’s ilium as he leaned back and pulled out, and there was the weak pressure of his attempted command as he tried to get Armand to flip over. “Turn over.”

But this time, Armand froze where he was, and he saw the confusion etched over Daniel’s face when he didn’t budge. He licked his lips and squeezed Armand’s hip, too turned on and frustrated to process why he was being denied. Armand had to admit his own surprise, as well, and realized he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t cooperating. It was something instinctive and subconscious and… his stomach churned at the threat of the layers peeling back.

“No,” he finally said out loud, and before Daniel could react he’d bolted upward and knocked Daniel onto his back. Daniel gasped for breath, winded and dazed for a moment, mouth open and eyes wide. He hadn’t seen Armand do it, and his mind was still lost in the cannabinoid fog. Armand straddled his hips and laid his hand flat over Daniel’s breast plate, feeling the space contracting in his chest as he leaned his weight in. “You don’t get to use me, Daniel.”

He reached behind and took Daniel by the root of his cock. It was still swollen and hard, but he gave it a few strokes for good measure before guiding it back into his body. The noise that came out of Daniel then was so broken, ragged and strained, and as Armand began to ride him, the motion of their bodies created indecipherable syllables that poured from him without words. His mind wasn’t working in words, either, it had emptied of all reason, only able to focus on Armand’s tight body grinding down on him, and the way it pooled fire in his gut. He was visualizing the heat moving through his body like a palpable force, a wave of orange and red, and Armand could see it because Daniel could see it, blooming outward through his core, spreading down to his fingertips, his toes, igniting the vortex in his brain. He cried out and bit the back of his hand.

“No, Daniel,” Armand took Daniel’s wrist, at least with mercy enough to be gentle, and guided it away. “Let me hear you.”

“Je-sus- _Christ_ Ar-ma-and—“ practically weeping beneath the rhythm of Armand’s body. His voice had gotten higher and came out in a string of pathetic wails.

“Come here,” Armand said. He sounded utterly calm and collected, but his voice held such stern power. It was almost a look of pain on Daniel’s face as his abs clenched and he sat up, at first propping his weight up on his elbows until Armand grabbed him by his biceps and tugged him upright. It took Daniel a moment to adjust, to shake off the complete subservience and regain control of his limbs. He reached around and held Armand by the ass, digging his hands in, spreading the cheeks apart as he canted upwards.

The color he was feeling was shifting now, deepening into a rich cobalt at the source of rapture, melting into a deathly Byzantium that tingled in his extremities.

This was it, this was the moment, and there was no need for him to say so. Armand knew, and he couldn’t wait any longer, and he pulled Daniel’s head back by a fistful of his blonde hair. The thick red heat shot against the roof of his mouth as he sank his teeth into the throbbing artery at Daniel’s neck. And now, now, as he drew on the gaping wound, as the blood smoothed out the tension and need, the ritual felt complete, and he could appreciate Daniel _inside him_ , truly inside him this time, and their hearts thudded together as the pleasure flowed in lush indigo.

Beneath him he could feel Daniel’s orgasm, he felt the pulse and contraction of his dick, and the way he’d painted the inside of Armand’s body. He rubbed a hand in a comforting circle against Daniel’s back as they rode it out, Daniel’s body fully trembling as Armand drank deeper. For a moment, connected this way and unable to hide a single detail, Armand could feel what Daniel was feeling. Blue and purple and overwhelming, and not just because Daniel was thinking it, but because he was sharing the source of enlightenment. The tainted, drugged blood was firing off the dormant receptors in Armand’s brain, as well, and he finally broke away with a hoarse, wet gasp. He could see it, too, now, and it was swirling through his head, his gut, crackling in the palms of his hands.

The fang marks on Daniel’s throat bubbled over and dripped down, bright red arterial blood, and as Armand began to slow the motion of his hips he leaned his head in to lick up the mess. His tongue dipped into the pool that formed at Daniel’s collar bone, and chased after the droplet that had danced its way down to his clavicle. Daniel panted and shook beneath him and let out the most lovely whine when Armand kissed him. Armand’s mouth was still red and coated and the taste of his own blood made Daniel twitch and shudder.

He eased his grip in Daniel’s hair and cradled the back of his head gently as he pulled away, and laid him down as he bit his tongue to heal the wound. A quick swipe over his chapped lips to fix those, too, and he lifted himself off Daniel’s softening erection to lay at his side. There weren’t words; none being thought and none to be spoken, and he leaned his head against Daniel’s sweaty chest to listen to his heartbeat. He could feel the cum dripping down and out of his body and knew they should bathe soon, but not yet.

The colors were fizzling down to a nice pink in his core now, and fading into a sunny, pale yellow that lapped at all his muscles. He could feel them expanding and contracting with the heavy, wet sound of Daniel’s heart beneath his ear. And he understood now, he felt it, too, the way his mind was opening to fill the silence, the outward spiral of his consciousness growing with every beat. He couldn’t help smiling, and turned his head inward to hide his face against Daniel’s chest. Daniel let out an exhausted half chuckle and pet the back of Armand’s head.

Somehow it felt like the veil had been pulled aside, like they were still experiencing the same afterglow. Armand swallowed hard and curled in tighter. It all seemed fascinating, miraculous, and he opened his mouth to say so, but stopped himself.

Daniel’s eyes were closed and his breathing had started to even out.

 _I wish you could feel what I feel,_ he wanted to say.

And _It’s so much deeper than you realize._

And even _You can’t possibly understand how precious you are._

_And how frail you are._

But no. It had been weeks since Daniel had been this relaxed, and Armand was in no rush to ruin the moment, the peace infusing the air. Beautiful pink glow floating around them both. It would inevitably turn into Daniel resenting him, making the usual knifelike comments about being turned. Not tonight. Not now.

He kissed the skin over Daniel’s pectoral, then shifted higher and kissed his shoulder. Daniel’s eyes opened when Armand kissed the corner of his jaw. They were still bloodshot, half hooded, and he blinked so languidly as he turned to look.

“Here,” Armand said, and he bit through his own wrist as an offering. There was a brief spark in Daniel’s face as he drank, overcoming the stoned and spent haze. Armand could feel every millimeter of the gash, could feel the life-force draining. Every bit of it, like there were whole cosmos coming out, entire worlds. He raised himself on his other elbow so that he could watch Daniel’s face, fascinated by this transition.

It was subtle, the way the Blood moved through him. But Armand saw it. Such a familiar face, and the Blood singing to him because it was his own, nearly glowing in the boy’s cheeks.

And the lines in his face, the pallor…

Something cut into his euphoria. Cold black dousing his insides, the life and color snuffed out.

Delicately, he pulled his wrist away, feeling the slight lurch in his heart at the needy sound of protest Daniel made. He watched the wounds close themselves and allowed Daniel to lick the excess away as a final gift.

Still high, but the red in his eyes had lessened. The dark circles had become lighter.

Yet the bones were still jutting out, and the crease between his brows wasn’t fading the way it used to, and…

He had been careless with this boy.

Daniel rolled onto his side and hugged Armand close to him, murmuring content little noises as he settled in. It took Armand a little while to calm down, for the floating feeling in Daniel’s blood to feel euphoric again, instead of making him feel weightless and lost. Drifting without an anchor, without a grasp. He pushed Daniel’s bangs away from his forehead and stared at the evidence of time passed. It made the discomfort spike and swell inside and threatened to pull him away from this quiet, easy bliss.

The record had ended some time ago; Armand hadn’t even noticed when, too enveloped in sensation. But he felt the silence now, the stillness. The voices from outside blended into white noise, soft and trifling. In here, just their heartbeats. Daniel’s breathing had gone tranquil and slow. Armand took a quick survey of his thoughts to make sure he was asleep, and then peeled himself away. Retreated to the bathroom and shut the door as silently as he could.

Part of him savored the way Daniel’s fluids were covering him like a second skin, the sweat, cum, saliva. It felt like a layer that he wanted to curl up with and absorb, take into his body the way he did the blood. And part of him wanted to burn it off, and leave, and hunt again. It was early still, he could find more. He could go hunt something. _Kill something_. Needing to leave was an instinct he couldn’t quite explain, and it was burning beneath his skin.

The compromise was a shower to rinse off, and to linger in the hot water until the paranoia from Daniel’s blood receded. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but Daniel was still sleeping when he returned to the bedroom.

It wasn’t the drugs that hit him in the gut as he watched Daniel’s sleeping form. Not the fleeting, abstract feeling of panic that had come and gone. No, this was… fear. Real fear.

 _I never cared about the other ones_ , he wanted to say.

And _You don’t have a lot of time left._

And even _I can’t take you with me._

_And I wish I could stay._

Daniel stirred in his sleep. He was curled on his side and his eyes opened just enough for Armand to see a quick gleam of reflected light before he shut them again. He lazily reached out one of his hands.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled.

Armand put his hand over his chest to feel the way his heart had begun to race.

_I wish I could stay._

He crossed the room, and Daniel was so compliant as Armand pushed and pulled to tuck him in. He heard a tiny mewl of protest when he left the room, but it was only go to get water. He put the glass on the side table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Daniel unconsciously sought Armand’s hand, and their fingers intertwined. His thumb swept in delicate circles over the backs of Armand’s knuckles. Armand couldn’t help wondering if this tender little gesture was crossing a line. He pondered again this sequence, the path, from finding Daniel that night in New Orleans to this loving, chaste touch which somehow meant the world. Lines and lines and lines, and lives he couldn’t give back. Looking back it seemed like such an obvious progression, like he should’ve known the whole time exactly where it would lead.

For a brief, aching moment he pretended to wonder where else it could go.

But he knew now.

He knew.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [visit me on the tumblah :)](https://monstersinthecosmos.tumblr.com/post/161574773434/the-lotus-eater-monstersinthecosmos-vampire)


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